Victory and Defeat
by CaptJoe213
Summary: A brash young sorceress seeks power through reckless battle, while it falls to a weary paladin to protect her. Will the paladin's tragic past repeat itself? Finally finished!
1. The sorceress

_Thanks for stopping by and taking a gander at my attempt to write. This tale is based on two of my favorite characters, my very first character, a paladin, and my first lvl 99, a sorceress. I do hope I do well in expressing the personalities of the two. When I play either of them, they feel like they are portrayed here. Maybe I just have an overactive imagination, but I do think of the sorceress as arrogant, and the paladin as kind and caring. And yes, my necromancer is a creep, maybe I'll write him up someday. _

_Anyways, I think this, and all my work is utter crap, but often we are our own worst critics. So I figured I'd let you the reader tell me how it's crap instead. But I do ask that you review, for I wish to become a better writer, and can only do so by hearing the opinions of others. _

_Also, I don't own Diablo, Blizzard, any character, or other such stuff. I don't own Hell, the Devil, or any other incarnation of evil, though I do think my wife is a devil woman. And when she's in a bad mood, sometimes my house seems like Hell, but that's just a coincidence. So don't sue. Or if you do, good luck, bout the only thing I own is a pair of smelly sneakers and a magic 8 ball. _

The sorceress

Frost stood in the clearing near the large fire that served as the center of the rogue encampment. Her long journey had came to it's conclusion, as she moved from the lands of her magic training to this place, finally ready to face the terror of the prime evils that had invaded the realm of man. Though she had become one of the most powerful sorceress' to ever walk the earth, this meant little now that Terror, Hate, and Destruction had been unleashed.

Frost had slain uncountable legions of warrior, mutants and beasts as a hired 'sword' in the war ravaged part of Sanctuary. In that time of strife, she had spent her life seeking an enemy worthy of dying by her hand, only to be constantly disappointed, facing green recruits or old men past their prime. Her heart burned with the lust for power, and blood.

She even once traveled to the island of the well known and feared amazons to find her ultimate nemesis, only to be disappointed. Her employee was a group of bandits that wanted to raid the amazons for the treasure they were said to have, and probably intended to take one or two slaves. They were quickly destroyed by the women, leaving Frost to face them alone.

The sorceress didn't mind at all, she was more concerned with obtaining that epic battle than any loot the amazons could posses, and she defiantly wasn't interested in enslaving them in the least bit. As she ventured into the jungle, she came across the band that had destroyed the bandits; there were three of them, two carrying huge bows, the third packing a javelin held aloft over her head. Frost hid in a thicket to prepare before the coming battle.

Taking a deep breath, Frost then drew on her magical energies, creating a shimmering light that raced from her feet up to her head, encasing her. This energy shield was made from the essence of her spiritual powers, a barrier that would take damage that could destroy her life and converting it into damage that would instead weaken her spellcasting ability. Quickly she flash froze the air around her body, encasing her armor in magical ice that was light as a feather, and had no temperature to her touch, but would create instant frostbite and massive pain on anyone else that attacked her.

The years of training and combat always gave Frost an edge in these situations; she had gained the ability to nearly instantaneous cast another spell. The shiver armor made a loud clank as the ice slammed against her armor. She used her fast casting ability to teleport herself from her safe area to the dead center between the amazons before they could they could even react to the sound she had just created. Upon her landing, she quickly focused again, creating a ball of ice she held in her hand. Frost turned, throwing this ball between one of the bow amazons and the one holding the javelins.

The amazons were caught off guard, the ice ball flew towards its target, throwing off dozens of ice shards that struck all three women. Frost focused, calling on the power of the thunderstorm, creating lighting that danced between her boots. Overhead the sky darkened, and bolts of white pain began raining down, striking near the women. The ball of ice reached its target, a spot directly between the bow and javelin amazons, and exploded into a final hail of ice bolts.

The bow woman had been nearly killed, she fell to the ground, forgetting any ideas of battle in favor of the thought of escape with her life. She scrambled up and began to run back towards the camp, presumably to summon her sisters. Frost quickly called upon the power of fire and created a blazing wall where the woman was standing, but by the time it roared into being the woman had moved past.

_No matter_, Frost thought to herself and she maneuvered around, avoiding the hail of arrows the other Amazon unleashed her way. The firewall had served its purpose regardless, the jungle around it had been set ablaze, causing a nice inferno to form, preventing anyone from approaching. This would keep Frost from being swarmed.

The javelin Amazon had regained her composure, though grievously wounded. She charged Frost, dodging lightning bolts as she approached. A high piercing scream sounding from her throat. Frost stopped, facing this threat. As the woman grew near, Frost saw that the metal tip of the javelin began to dance with electrical energy. _How weak, _Frost mused to herself, bringing her shield up high. The javelin smashed into the cold steel of the shield, absorbing most the shock, though some did filter down into Frost's forearms, bring with it a tingling sensation and a burning pain.

Since Frost was still protected by her shivering armor of ice, the Amazon got a surprise, in the form of a chilling cold that shot through her body, magically freezing her. Frost quickly brought down her shield, and swung her magical orb weapon in a wide outer arc at the javelins that had just been thrust at her. The small foot and a half elaborately carved wooden shaft with a blue swirling crystal ball perched atop connected with the knuckles of the Amazon, knocking her still frozen javelins from her hand. They hit the ground with a sound akin to a large chunk of ice crashing down. At that moment, a flash of light appeared, slamming into the javelins from the sky, shattering the weapon into a hundred little pieces.

A third and fourth arrow slammed into Frost's back, fired at her by the last Amazon while she was dealing with the javelin witch. Pain shot through Frost's body, her energy shield weakening and finally failing with that last impact on it. Having disarmed the Amazon before her and causing her to fall back from the lack of a weapon and the pain of having attacked shiver armor, Frost turned to face the last true threat.

Frost quickly teleported herself to a new position a few feet away to throw off the aim of her enemy. The Amazon was hiding behind a boulder, popping up to fire before taking shelter behind the stone wall. Frost threw another frozen orb of ice in the direction of the rock. Suddenly there was a bright flash close to her and she whirled to see what she faced. There stood the disarmed javelin Amazon, pulling back her fist as if she intended to strike Frost.

Frost quickly formed a ball of fire in her hand, tossing it at point blank range at the defiant woman before teleporting out of range. The fireball struck the same time a white stroke crashed down from the sky. The woman burst into a large puddle of red magic sparklers. _Decoy! _Frost thought to herself as she saw the rustling deeper inside the forest where the real javelin Amazon had escaped. The movement continued away from the battle, appearing to go around the growing forest fire. _Two down, one to go. _

Frost quickly recast her shiver armor, energy barrier, and thunderstorm before turning to face this last Amazon. The Amazon popped up, hesitating a second, and on seeing her sister-in-arms had fled, began firing. Frost watched as the arrow zoomed towards her, then at the last second teleported a few inches away, grabbing the arrow and giving the Amazon a disgusted look. The Amazon laughed at her! The nerve! Frost felt the anger boil up in her. Frost started towards the Amazon at a dead run. Then the Amazon fired again.

As the arrows left her bow, the one arrow spit into dozens, streaking forward in a fan shaped flight. Frost, caught off guard, was pounded as three arrows slammed into her armor. Again the Amazon fired, again the arrows split. Frost teleported behind the arrows, avoiding them all. The Amazon was smart enough not to try the multiple shot again, instead, she drew back her bow, and the arrow that she let fly became encased in a white magical energy, and the tip of the arrow became a snakes head, screaming towards her with it's mouth open, fangs bared.

Frost quickly teleported out of the way as the arrow zipped past where she just stood. Smirking, Frost threw another frozen orb at the Amazon. This one connected, slowing the blonde woman and knocking her back. Frost sensed something coming at her and quickly whirled to face this unknown threat. Much to her amazement, it was the white snake arrow. A guided missile!

Years of wars and battle had taught Frost well. She quickly created another firewall underneath the feet of the stunned Amazon. The fire quickly licked up the woman, burning her badly. Frost then quickly teleported behind the Amazon, just as the arrow reached her. She felt the pain of the magic arrow nipping at her back as she hurled herself away magically.

Appearing behind the stunned and burning Amazon, Frost reached up and grabbed the woman, throwing her in the path between Frost and the arrow. The arrow, moving at such a high speed, had no time to correct its trajectory, and it slammed directly into the chest of the woman that had fired it. The arrow tore through the heart of the Amazon, and the head popped out the back, the magic snake snapping and straining to bite Frost even still.

Frost, repelled by snakes of any kind, quickly stepped back, and summoned the power of fire, spraying a stream of superheated air from her lungs. The burning fire consumed the upper half of the Amazon's body, matching it with the burnt damage suffered by her lower half from the firewall. The arrow's magic dispelled, leaving nothing behind but a blackened metal tip.

The Amazon, now quite dead fell to the ground. Frost was disappointed in her encounter with these legendary women, not even three of them were a threat to her. Frost took the last Amazon's ear, a memento to the fact she had felled one of these feared warriors. Frost called her fire powers and focused it into her feet, causing her boots to be set ablaze. She then turned, retreating back to the boat, to take that solitary ride back to the western kingdoms, leaving a trail of fire behind her, to discourage pursuit.


	2. The paladin

II. The paladin

If Frost was young and brash, Luther was everything Frost was not. He was a paladin, a holy warrior in service to the Light, looking to ease the burden of Man, and help the less fortunate any way he could. He had spent the bulk of his thirty years patrolling hamlets, warding off bandits, healing the sick, and preaching of the Light to all he encountered.

The sight of a paladin in battle was one to behold, as Luther had proven countless times against brigandines and bandits that dared prey on the common man within reach of Luther's trusty scepter. On countless occasions, Luther would come across some farmer under attack from a pack of lawless thieves. One moment the farmer would be cowering in fear, being beaten violently only to hear the sound that resembled a church choir hitting a single note. This sound was accompanied by the sight of a man in shining plate armor charging into battle with a speed that seemed quicker than the eye, a trail of duplicate shadows of the paladin left in his wake, a orange hued aura encasing him.

Upon entering the fray, Luther would swing his golden scepter at lightning speed, the red cap of the weapon nearly invisible from the speed of the flurry of blows. The first round of this zealous attack were usually enough to kill, and if it didn't happen to finish the target, on occasion the very heavens themselves would open and strike down Luther's enemies in a brilliant flash of light. So went the battles against him, charging in, and the flurry of blows that struck all around him until no creatures of darkness were left standing.

After such a battle, Luther would turn to help the oppressed, and if they were injured, he would use the powers of Light to heal them, a warm, soothing calmness would emanate from him, relieving the injured. So went Luther's life, battling the evil in men, and lifting the spirits of those around him. He had never become a member of any military force, though he had been courted by several, from royal guards to mere mercenaries. He knew that a military lifestyle would ultimately interfere with his divine duties. He had even been approached by the Holy Knights of Zakarum when he had received the Blessed Hand, a legendary weapon only bestowed on the greatest champions of the light, and consecrated by the High Council themselves.

He had met with the Captain of the Knights, but refused the offer on learning that the Knights were made to stay in Kurast to protect the soulstone of one of the Prime Evils. Luther would not be tethered anywhere, he would come and go as he pleased, moving to places where he felt his talents were most needed. Luther and his brand new scepter then left his homeland of Kurast mournfully, and headed west.

The years of war and strife had taken its toll on the paladin, though he was strong in his beliefs, for every mortal life that ended with a blow from his weapons, Luther felt he lost something. Although no quarter could be given to those that were evil, it still pained him, the amount of blood that was on his hands. _I have only done what had to be done, _Luther told himself, letting his mind wander as he sat in a small pub, in a small western hamlet, idly listening to the banter around him.

Luther had once been a very different man, a merciful man. He had grown up, learning of the church and Zakarum and the Light, and had known at a young age he was destined to be a paladin. He had always enjoyed helping others. His youth had been uneventful, he had squired with a knight in the army, and upon being knighted himself, and he had traveled with a wandering friar instead of entering the service until he obtained the rank of paladin.

Being only eighteen years old, and full of his youth, he had traveled a bit north from his homeland, coming across a small village. Seeing they had no priest, and had troubles with the occasional bandit, he had stayed, making a home there. He protected and taught these people, and became one with them. Not long after his twenty first birthday he finally gathered the nerve to approach a beautiful woman in the village. He had been in love with her for nearly his entire time here, but didn't have the courage to speak with her. She was a few inches shorter than Luther, with raven black hair, dark eyes that spoke to him of mystery, and smooth bronzed skin.

It wasn't long after their courtship began before they had become inseparable. Soon followed their marriage. Luther felt that his life was totally complete, lacking nothing, until the day that his beautiful bride had announced to him that she was with child. Luther spent her pregnancy dreaming of the little boy that would come, a little Luther, someone he could pass his armor and values to, someone that could become a paladin, maybe creating a line of paladins that would serve for generations to come.

The day of his dreams finally arrived, his life changing forever, in ways Luther would not have even imagined. His wife had trouble birthing his little boy. His child had arrived in the world in perfect health, but the baby's mother was terribly injured in the process. In the first few days of the baby's life, his mother had developed an infection the midwife couldn't heal. Luther had used every healing potion, salve, and prayer he could think of to no avail. He tried to cleanse her body of the infection, and once again met with failure. Soon after, on his little boy's fifth day of life, she passed on to the heavens.

Luther's very soul screamed to the heavens, demanding to know why his love was taken from him. The answer from above began to cry. His little boy lives, his little warrior. Luther knew his duty, he must show his new son the ways of the world. Luther set his heart to honor his wife with the deeds his son would achieve, deeds only possible from the virtues Luther would teach him.

Life went on for Luther, the women of the village helping him to raise the small boy he had named Milabrega, after the legendary paladin. Not long before Milabrega's first birthday, there had been rumors of a rash of bandits attacking nearby villages. Luther knew he would have to go search out these bandits. Not only was his honor at stake, but the safety of his son as well.

Luther embarked, leaving Milabrega in the care of his wife's best friend. Soon he came across pillaged lands, farms burnt. These bandits were a nasty lot. Luther strode forward, the sunlight glinting off the large brass cross attached to the breastplate of his armor. Before starting towards a burning homestead, Luther lifted his large paladin shield up towards the sky. With a few muttered words of prayer, the large shield carved with the image of two dueling snakes was replaced by a translucent, glowing object with a large brilliant cross situated in the center of it. Securing his grip on his now blessed, holy shield, he walked forward, prepared for whatever he met.

Luther had made it only a few steps when he saw a sudden blur to his left, and scantily escaped the deadly arc of a scythe as it swooshed through the air where he was just standing. At the same time a large burly man leapt from the bushes, wielding an axe in each hand. Luther raised his shield, deflecting the blow, though staggering a little from the strength of this large brute. Before Luther could gather himself, he felt the sting of blades smashing into his back, deflecting off his armor. A third man was standing behind him, using throwing knives to attack from a distance.

Luther felt the effect of his holy aura kick in. The world around him seemed to slow considerably as the orange hue covered him. He seemed to move with incredible speed, dodging the axe man's blows deftly. The man with the scythe had recovered from his arcing miss, shifting the blade around so that it pointed towards Luther's feet. The blade started to move towards Luther, drawing his attention. The wielder was focused on the movement of the blade, not bothering to watch Luther. Summoning his strength, Luther brought his shield tight against his body, and then forcefully swung it outward, smashing the glowing holy shield directly into the man's face. The impact broke the man's nose, removed most of his teeth, and fatally cracked his skull. The force propelled the man backwards, his already dead hand still gripping the scythe. The deadly bladed farm tool flew backwards and up, mere breaths away from Luther's legs.

The man with the axe managed to connect a blow against Luther's shoulder, right as his partner was tasting shield. The scythe flying back drew the axe man's attention, startling him. This was all Luther needed. He called on the powers of the elements, enchanting his weapon with all the powers of creation. Lightning, fire, and ice all danced about the head of the scepter, vying for dominance. Luther used the force of the blow to his shoulder to create as powerful of a backswing as he could achieve. As the axe man tried to figure out what was going on, Luther brought the scepter down onto his target's head. The elemental enchantments froze, shock, and burnt the man all at the same time. The scepter cleaved through flesh and bone, bursting the man's head, leaving nothing but a bloody mess behind.

The battle darts had bit at Luther's back continuously during the quick battle, stinging him. None had pierced his armor, but they were striking extremely hard, the thrower was quite strong. Determined to finish the battle, Luther turned and charged with the insane speed paladins are known for, striking this last enemy. The man was thrown back several feet, and landed on his back. Luther quickly closed the gap, and bore down on the man.

Before dealing the final blow, the man had begged for his life, pleaded with Luther, swearing he would never do anything wrong again, with Luther's scepter looming over his head. The bandit had explained they were simple thieves, just preying on the weak. Luther had felt a moment of weakness, and allowed to man to live, telling him to flee and never to return.

Luther had continued on, dispatching a few more bands as he went, and buried more innocent victims than he would care to count. The bands were part of a large gang that had been ran out of their usual haunts by royal guards, and decided to give country life a go. They ravaged the lands and killed all that stood in their way.

Luther had been away for a few weeks when he finally decided he had gotten his message across. A score of these bandits lie in the ground, and the rest fled him on sight, quickly disappearing into the thickets surrounding the farmlands. Luther trudged his way back home, glad to see a few of the braver locals had ventured back in and begun rebuilding. Luther turned over a small amulet, a token taken from one of the bandits. It gave the wearer a small amount of strength. He had intended to give it to Milabrega.

As Luther came into sight of his small village home, a terrible sight met his eyes. His peaceful village where he had loved his wife, and raised his son, had been burnt horribly. The entire village had been laid to waste. Smoke wafted up from charred remains of the small huts that Luther had come to see as happy homes. Luther raced forward, moving at blinding speed, into the middle of the village. Charred remains waited his senses, the smell of death hanging heavy in the air.

Many of the men had been disemboweled and apparently burnt where they fell. The savage beasts had been more careful with the women of the village. A large swath of ground had been cleared of debris, carefully cleaned so that the fire wouldn't spread to the macabre shrine left there. The women had apparently been raped; clothes ripped from their bodies, and most had died when their throat was slashed.

The children were stacked up at the edge of a hut, now a smoldering crater. It appeared the children had been used for weapon training; many of the little bodies were missing limbs. Luther could see how the kids were running through the village in fear, being cut down as nothing more than mild entertainment for the men waiting their turn to rape a woman. Luther saw arrows, javelins, and throwing axes lodged in little bodies.

Horror gripped Luther, then panic, as he frantically searched for signs of his son. Luther threw aside body after body of little children he had known, some he had even blessed at their birth. Towards the bottom of the dozen or so bodies, he came across the sight that he feared most, the sight he had to see. In a bloody mess lay his little boy, his little warrior Milly. Death seemed to have come gently for him, his face nearly in a smile, and no sign of fear evident. His last moments of life were most painful, from the looks of him.

An arrow had pierced through Milly's stomach, and his left arm had been severed. Luther lifted the little body, holding it close to him, what little blood left in his little body trickling down Luther's armor.

Luther took his son and sat in the ruins of his home, the home where the boy had been born, the house where Luther had first made love to his wife. The place where his love's life had been cut short, and now the place where he held his dead son. Luther cried out in pain, horror, and frustration from losing all he had gained in this quiet place. The heavens themselves seem to mourn with the holy warrior, as clouds cried painful tears of rain down on the scarred earth.

Unlike many others in his position, Luther did not abandon his ways or his belief in the Light. It was all he had left, he had lost all else he loved in the world, and could not lose the last thing he had, his faith. Luther cleaned up all he could, blessing the dead, praying for them before placing them in a large mass grave he had dug out. Every body he put in the cold ground caused his rage to build. Many of the men were more or less shoveled in, their bodies so badly burnt they crumbled when touched. The women tore him up the most, seeing their desecrated bodies, imagining the horror they experienced. After blessing the last of the dead, he covered the pit, placing a simple marker, remembering these people that had become his family.

Luther buried his son in a grave next to his wife, tears stinging his eyes. He had always imagined it would be Milabrega digging this hole for his father, not father for son. Guilt bit at Luther's soul, the doubts coming creeping in like a dark stalker, whispering to him it was his fault for leaving, it was his fault for being alive while his son was dead. Bloodlust burned in Luther's soul, his spirit calling for vengeance. _I vow to avenge your death, little one, _Luther grimly thought as he finished the grave, placing a marker.

Luther struck out, quickly gaining leads on the culprits. It would seem the bandit band was quite large. Luther had eliminated enough of them to gain some attention from them. A mass of them had gathered up and were hunting Luther as he was hunting the other bandits. They had scouted around, and found out where Luther lived, and then destroyed his home. Luther had wondered where they had found out who it was that was killing squads of bandits in the first place, and the answer came swiftly.

Luther had walked into the middle of a clearing, only to discover he was surrounded. The band had seen him coming and laid a trap for the paladin. Among the faces Luther gazed on as he prepared for battle was none other than the very man he had let escape. Luther had spared this man's life, and instead of repenting and changing his ways, he ran back to his buddies, helped them exact revenge.

Luther's mercy had came back to haunt him. If he had killed this one man, he might have destroyed the entire group eventually, wiping their scum from the earth. His son might still draw breath, his friends, might still live. Luther's anger rose to new heights. The battle was furious and bloody. Soon after the first swing, Luther stood in the middle of the clearing, a few dozen bodies strewn about, almost entirely covered in the blood of his son's killers. The man that had betrayed him, took his act of kindness and turned it into something of pure evil, laid at Luther's feet, most of his torso missing from the savagery of Luther's blows. Luther, still in battle rage, lifted his arms to the heavens, letting loose a scream more frightening than any barbarian war cry. The sky flashed with light as lightning screamed down repeatedly striking the dead bodies of his slain enemies.

After the rage and pain subsided from Luther, he traveled back to his homeland of Kurast where he spent some time in the temples, praying for forgiveness for his rage and the acts he committed with vengeance in his heart. With the passing of time, Luther came to terms with his loss, and recommitted himself to the Light. He then went to the deserts to seek out evil wherever it was, vowed to never let another suffer the pain he had. He learned from his experience that evil must be destroyed and mercy cannot be afforded.

Luther came to from his jog down memory lane, his senses returning to the cramped little pub situated in the front room of a small country inn. Luther bit back the dampness he felt forming around his eyes, as it always did when he thought of loved ones past. Thankfully, the smoke and haze that hung in the air prevented anyone from noticing.

"I heard that this dark wanderer guy passed through heading towards Lut Golein, not only that, but I heard he's the spirit of Diablo himself!" a large redheaded man commented to his burly drinking partner.

Luther turned from the small wooden bar and faced the heavy oak table directly behind him, where the two men were discussing the happenings.

"Is that so? You did hear about the village he supposedly burned? The Sisters said it was overrun with undead when they got there, and the survivors said he was the last there" the second man said.

"What would we do without the Sisters?" the redhead mused.

"We'd all be dead, that's what!" came the reply.

"I'm sorry, but who are the sisters you're talking about?" Luther asked the men.

"Ahh a paladin! You heard bout the trouble round here too eh? The Sisters of the Sightless Eye, damn fine archers, rival even the amazons, so I've heard. They patrol round here, keeping us farmers safe from the demons and walking dead that have started appearing lately" the second man stated.

"They have a camp a few miles up, if you're looking to lend a blade in the battle, that'd be the place to start I'd reckon, though be careful. The Sisters patrol, but there are still beasts and demons wandering out there" the redhead informed Luther.

"Thank you, may the Light bless you both" Luther said, placing a few coins on the bar and heading out the door.

Every since the tragedy, Luther has sought out evil and destroyed it. He wanted nothing more than to battle great evil, and destroy it with the power of Light. What greater evil could there be than a Prime Evil himself? The rumors could be wrong, but something was becoming clear as Luther traveled in the direction where the Sisters had supposedly had camp. Evil was at work here, nature itself seemed more twisted and evil with every footstep Luther took. Trees had become gnarled and twisted, casting unnatural shadows. The wind blew with a deep chill, howling like an enraged monster around the tortured landscape. Luther sensed something moving along the shadows on occasion. A paladin is not given to fear, what he felt was the aura of death, the essence of Terror. Luther came in sight of the small barricaded camp, and knew his story was only about to begin.


	3. The Dark Road Begins

III

"Well met, noble paladin!" Warriv exclaimed as Luther strode into the walled camp. The camp appeared almost deserted, since the inhabitants were apparently sleeping in the myriad of tents scattered about. _Even as late as it is, I'm not sure I could sleep with this aura of evil and terror hanging in the air, _Luther thought to himself as he strolled over to the bonfire with Warriv.

"Most all the camp is asleep, obviously" Warriv stated, "It's my turn at watch, we've had a few fallen try to raid the camp."

"Fallen?" Luther asked.

"Oh, nasty little things, small red beasts with scimitars. Never mind that, you'll meet more than your fair share soon enough. Go get some rest noble one, a tired warrior is a dead warrior" Warriv led Luther towards a tent.

Dawn came but did little to expel the darkness that seemed to hang in the very air. Luther rose from a fitful night's sleep, ghosts of the past tormenting his dreams again, as they often did. He stretched a bit, shaking off the stiffness that came with sleeping while armored. The aura of evil compelled him to remain prepared to stride into battle. Luther walked out of Warriv's tent, intending to thank the caravan master for allowing him to share the shelter of the tent with him.

Warriv appeared to be enraptured in the conversation he was having with a large redheaded woman, so Luther decided to leave him be for the moment. Luther wandered over towards what appeared to be a blacksmith's stall.

"Good morning! I'm Charsi, the smith here" a blonde woman greeted him.

"Well met Charsi" Luther replied, moving towards the anvil where the woman was standing. "Could you perhaps repair my armor? It's been some time since I've had the services of a smith"

"Let me take a look" Charsi said while indicating Luther should remove his breastplate. She studied it carefully, and placed it on the anvil, beginning her work.

"Ahh, here we go. Leave the rest of your equipment here, and I will repair it. While I do, you should go talk to Akara, the camp healer"

Luther complied, and Charsi's eyes widened as she noticed the Blessed Hand. "Wow! That's a nice weapon!" she exclaimed.

Luther allowed himself a smile and feeling a bit naked without his armor, turned to seek out this Akara.

Luther made his way to the opposite end of the camp, passing several rogues whom he knew to be excellent archers. The Sisters were renowned for their abilities. He passed Warriv who was still speaking with the redheaded woman intently. He offered a brief hello, as he spotted his destination. The village healer stood over by her tent, and older woman, with seemingly the weight of the world riding her shoulders.

"Ahh a paladin! I hope you were able to rest last night, for we need your help this morning" Akara greeted him, coming right to the point.

"Hail to you, how may I help?" Luther answered.

"There is a place of great evil outside here, a cave nearby full of foul demons" Akara gestured beyond the palisade as she spoke.

"Say no more, I shall cleanse this cave before the demons threaten this camp!" Luther began to start back towards Charsi's to collect his equipment.

"Wait, there is something else" Akara stopped him. "There is a brash young sorceress trying to make her way to the monastery. Kaysha's scouts have reported seeing her moving through the wilderness. I fear for her, she is not ready to face the darkness she is rushing to face. Please, if you can, help her before her mistakes become fatal"

"I will try to watch for her" Luther pledged before striding away from Akara's tent.

Moments later Luther stood outside the camp, his armor shining gloriously in the sun. He took a deep breath and prepared for the battle of his life, the battle of all time. He strode forward, seeing a couple of rotting zombie corpses strewn on the ground. The sorceress had headed off in the direction of the distant monastery judging from her tracks. Luther sighed, this spell caster was playing a dangerous game, by being overconfident. He moved his attention to the task at hand, finding this den that the sorceress had neglected, and clearing it for the safety of the camp. He found no thoughts of rushing in his mind, most likely this young sorceress was already dead.

He made good time across the plains, finding little resistance other than a few of these 'fallen' demon creatures and a few quill rats. Those beasts fell easily to Luther's Blessed Hand. He soon found the entrance to the cave he was seeking. Luther took a deep breath, blessed his shield, and climbed in the entrance.

He was met with the sound of a thunderous roar as soon as his feet touched the floor. Luther quickly took a defensive position. A large creature charged him, at least the size of a man and a half, covered in hair, and madness swimming in its eyes. Before Luther could draw his weapon back the beast was on him. A huge clawed hand swooped back into the air. Luther instinctively pulled his glowing shield up to deflect the blow. The beast brought his arm smashing down into the shield, the force of this creature's strength knocking Luther back against the cave wall. The breath was knocked from him, and Luther's vision swam briefly. Luther lied there, in all appearances dead, except for the dancing of fire, lightning, and ice on the head of his scepter.

The animal approached slowly, thinking the fight to be over. Luther waited, his eyes open just enough to see the brute approach. The creature jabbed him once, and apparently satisfied that the paladin was dead, turned away. Luther leapt to life, swinging his arm with all his might. A terrible death cry echoed throughout the cave.

Luther had spent a few days clearing out the demon infestation from around the camp when he came across a strange tree. It stood several feet higher, and a great deal thicker than the surrounding brush. This tree seems to have avoided the corruption tainting the lands around it. Luther felt a strong aura of magic flowing from this tree.

Luther strode forward, and braved a touch. Even though the tree looked old and rough, it felt wonderfully smooth to Luther's hand. Power emanated into Luther's hand, refreshing him and giving him strength. Luther allowed this power to flow into him. As Luther began to draw his hand away, he saw that a scroll had attached itself to his gauntlets. The scroll seemed to have been part of the very tree itself, and radiated the same Light power the tree pulsed with. "I must take this to Akara" Luther said aloud, the tree the only testament to his words.

"You did well to bring this to me, Paladin" Akara said as she studied the scroll. "This scroll is written in the ancient language of the Horadrim, an order of holy men from times past"

"Yes I know of them, the history of the Order is taught to children in Kurast, but why is it here?"

"I can only make out Cain, what appears to be a chant, and something about touching the Carin Stones" Akara informed Luther, her forehead wrinkled in thought. "Yes, that's it. Go to the Carin Stones, speak Lem-Ko-Tir, and then touch them in the order listed here on the scroll. Do you know of the Stones?"

"I believe so, I have seen 5 rocks in a circle with these symbols on them. They were guarded by a nasty little Fallen that was unnaturally quick. I shall go see what is going on there" Luther said, striding away.

"May the Light guide you noble paladin" Akara called after him.

After a quick visit to Charsi to get his equipment repaired, Luther was off. He met little resistance. Soon he arrived at the stones. "What manner of surprise awaits me?" Luther wondered aloud. He looked around, making sure the area was secure. He took a deep breath. "LEM-KO-TIR" he shouted, and quickly leapt around touching the cool stones. Each one lit up and hummed with his touch. When the last one began glowing, the sky itself seemed to close, and lighting danced down from the sky, striking each stone. The stones began flinging bolts between them, and a bright red oval opened in the center of the formation. Luther had seen this magic before, when dealing with mercenary wizards. It was a portal to somewhere, and he would probably find a battle on the other side. Luther again took a breath, blessed his shield, and stepped through the portal. Nothing could have prepared him for the horror he saw.

The first thing to assault his senses was the overwhelming stench of death. This putrid smell, like a beast strangling the air, turned its claws upon the paladin even before his vision cleared from the transportation. Luther swallowed back a gag, never being able to recall such a powerful odor in all his days, never was the smell this bad on any of the many battlefields he had strode on in his life.

As his vision cleared, he found himself standing outside the red portal, on the edge of a shell of a town, completely burnt out. What was once a thriving small community was nothing more than a land of death now, seemingly the capital of death itself, if such a place ever existed. Along with the horrid smell of death and burning wood, came the rumble of dark unmentionable demons, lurking in the shadows, seeking to devour any who came across their path.

Fear gripped at Luther's heart, as he came to realize where he was. Even though he had never seen this place before, he knew it to be Tristram, where the first brave warrior had vanquished Diablo from the earth. This was a place of victory, a bastion against all evil. But now, Tristram had fallen.

Surely the brave warrior would have defended this town, kept safe the place that had been saved once before from the terrors of the Dark Lord. Luther's heart sank at looking on this place. Surely the first brave warrior was dead. There was no other explanation for the demon infestation. This saddened Luther a great deal, he had hoped to recruit the warrior to fight with him in glorious battle. He had not been here to assist with Diablo's first defeat, but feverently wished to walk with the victor for the repeat of his performance here. It appeared that Luther would never have such a chance.

Not only had the world apparently lost the original warrior, but there was another of great importance in this place, the great Horadrim Cain. He was a venerable font of knowledge and wisdom, a great asset in the battle against the darkness. Luther wasn't sure if the battle against the Dark Lord could be won with strength alone. Wisdom and information would be needed, and now the best source seemed to be lost. Despair wrapped its bony claws around Luther's heart. Beginning to believe the battle was hopeless, Luther nevertheless pressed on, determined to die trying, if he must. He would do anything he could to prevent the tragedy that had befallen his son, and he knew if he failed, that horror would befall the entire world.

Luther picked his way through the burning rubble, looking for any signs of life. Nothing met his senses but death and decay. On the south side of a house, snuggled close to another running perpendicular to it, he found the corpse of a man. The man was badly mauled, vicious gaping wounds spread across his chest and face. The man appeared to have tried to run, but for some reason was unable to. As Luther examined this body, not only did the scent of death wash across him, but another smell, nearly as strong, of alcohol. This man had been a drunk. Luther shook his head in sadness, for such habits were shameful to his priestly way of life. Though it made little difference, sober or drunk, death was assured to this poor soul.

As he lingered on the fate of the villager, the evil here made itself known. A large beast jumped from the shadows, a creature not quite man, but not quite beast either. It had the head and legs of a goat, but the torso of a man. The goatman's head and legs were covered in coarse black hair, while his chest was hairless, and a dull shade of grey, akin to a rotting corpse.

A wicked black two handed mace sliced through the air, moving as quickly as thunder. Luther skirted to the side, managing to avoid the mace's arc, although barely. Before he could catch his balance, the goatman had jerked his weapon from the ground and prepared for another swing. Luther allowed a wicked smile to cross his face, for this was where he truly loved to be, in the midst of battle against evil.

Luther raised his scepter, the elements enchanting the red tip almost naturally. He brought it to bear on the goatman, smashing it down upon the beast's shoulder. Luther expected to feel the crushing sound as the creature's bones gave way. His ears were not satisfied however, and the blow seemed to glance off the demon's skin. Luther was surprised, and caught off guard for a moment. He had never once run into a situation where his scepter had failed in its strike.

He staggered back, trying to recover his balance. This provided the perfect opportunity for the goatman's comrades, and they sprang out of the darkness, the ambush sprung. A mace smashed into Luther's back, the sharp spikes bristling from the head piercing his armor and biting into his flesh. Another goatman to his left sent his weapon slicing through the air, where it crashed on Luther's shield, leaving deep scratches in its surface. Luther reeled to his right, stunned from the blow. Yet another goatman smashed his mace into Luther's right side, again puncturing his armor and digging into his skin. Luther crumpled to one knee, desperately attempting to regain his breath.

The demons paused in their attack, leering at their prey, assured now of their victory. They reveled in their evil, savoring the pain and suffering they were about to inflict upon their target. Luther could smell the stench of their evil, could feel their bloodlust, as though it was an aura about them. Pain pulsed in Luther's back and side, the wounds throbbing, threatening to overwhelm him. He knew that the weapons had carried poison on them, maybe not intentionally, but surely at least from the foulness of the beasts coupled with the putrid remains of their previous victims. The creatures licked their lips, and bleated an awful sound at one another, as they slowly moved in for the kill. This momentary lapse would prove to be their undoing.

Luther felt a righteous rage overcome him, an anger sent down from the high places of the Light, and blessed by the same. He was no longer a paladin, a man, but instead an angel of death, the destroyer of evil, a holy purge over the creeping oppressing darkness. A scream erupted from his throat, a sound beyond any war cry known to any barbarian to be found, a sound of pure hatred, and anger, a sound seeking nothing but death. The aura of fanaticism encased him, and a glow seemed to emit from his body. He rose, standing completely still. The goatmen were taken back by the cry, and stood stunned, unsure on how to react to what had happened. The glow in Luther intensified, and he began to shake violently. The glow finally erupted out of him, and hammers of pure energy began arcing around him, smashing into the goatmen.

Once again the scream escaped his lips, and he shot forward faster than the eye could follow. His intense charge attack made him nothing but a blur. He raised his scepter and smashed it down into the goatman's head, repeating the blow nearly as quickly as it fell. With the intensity of a zealot, he struck the beast's head countless times, just as one of the hammers ripped through its torso. Surely the creature was dead by the fall of the second blow, but Luther did not relent. After several blows, he sprang back with nimbleness uncharacteristic of an armored knight. He quickly turned to the three other goatmen and pressed the attack again. His blow struck down, and as he raised his weapon again, quicker than sight could follow, and landed the next blow upon a different target. His zeal allowed him to strike endless blows against all the beasts nearly simultaneously. Death came for them, with no chance of mercy. If they didn't fall from the vicious blows from Luther, then the magical hammers would remove their torsos.

In a blink of an eye, all the beasts lay dead at Luther's feet, nevermore to inflict pain or spread darkness again. They had died quickly, maybe even mercifully. They had been spared the horror they had shown their victims. This angered Luther, but he had no choice, his anger did not facilitate torture, and even as wicked as they were, neither would his nature. He knew deep down that no amount of torture, no amount of suffering would make up for the pain and emptiness he felt inside, nothing could replace little Milly.

Just the thought of his dear departed son renewed Luther's rage, and he charged forward to bring more death to any evil that crossed his path.


	4. The Pain Of Haste

_Well here it is, another chapter in this goofy tale of mine. I hope it is readable, maybe even enjoyable. If anyone happened to be wondering when I'd update, I offer my apology at the delay. My wife just got a huge promotion into upper management, and that has turned our lives upside down, and left me little time to write. Things are settling down now, so hopefully the following chapters will come quickly._

_Hey, thanks for reading, and I ask that you please leave a review. I wish to grow in my skills and you the reader are truly my best teacher. _

_Anyways, on with the show. Thanks for reading._

IV

Frost had made good time, she thought, working her way towards the monastery. She stayed mainly on the road that wandered through the wilderness, the remnants of the trade route from the monastery to nearby towns. The demons came in packs, threatening to swarm Frost at times. She had been able to make her way through and now found herself standing before the gateway to her goal.

The large wooden door, inlaid with metal strips across its face reminded Frost of the temple in which she had grown up, and honed her craft. She had been taken from her parents at a very young age, around six. Whisked away from her family, she had found a new place to belong, with the sisters of magic. They had squirreled her away to an old temple, a monument of stone erected in defiance of the jungle surrounding it.

The temple was very near Kurast, but the witches had no need for that place, nor for the company of anyone therein. They had all they needed themselves. They grew their own food, scoured the jungle for reagents for their magic, and trained in the walls of the temple. They dedicated their lives to preparation for the dark days they knew to be coming.

Frost had been recognized as highly talented within a place where great talent was as common as raven locks. The elder sisters lavished praise on her, hoping to inspire her pride, and keep her away from the corruption that follows great power. This attention from the elders led to Frost becoming an outcast to her fellow students. They resented her for the ease in which she manipulated magic. They had teased her relentlessly, would not include her in their activities, and did their best to make her feel unwelcome.

Frost took this hard at first, but soon embraced her situation. She was better than those children, she was one of the greatest sorceresses to ever draw breath, and therefore above them. She turned to the elders, beginning to spend her time with her teachers, away from the students. She became greater than those ants scurrying about, those who were spending years trying to learn to control a level of magic that Frost could manipulate in her sleep. They were nothing compared to her, and she knew it. Her feelings of rejection and sadness turned to anger, then hate, then twisted her to believe that all of those who had rejected her were beneath her.

With her ego inflated so much, even if just a protection from the pain she had suffered, had driven her to end her training and seek out a worthy adversary to face. She didn't expect to find one, for she was so self involved that she believed herself to be the most powerful being to exist in the world. But no matter how much her mind screamed of her power, her heart remembered the truth, she was just a little girl that wanted to have a friend, wanted to belong, wanted to be loved.

The trip down memory lane ended, repressed before the pain could slip through, as it had been repressed countless times since her trek had begun. She once again turned her attention to the here and now, allowing herself to become angry again, to sheathe herself in her arrogance and superiority. There was nothing that could stand against her, nothing that could defeat her. She was a titan striding the earth, and she knew it. She strode forward boldly, with her usual swagger, trying to convince herself of her confidence, and forget all other feelings that twisted in her soul.

Frost reached to open the door to the courtyard only to be surprised as it flung open with great force. A small group of women stood in the doorway, and for a moment Frost thought they were a group of Kaysha's rogues. She let her guard down briefly, before noticing that the women were pale, and acting very strangely. As this thought came into her mind, the closest woman struck forward with a lance, driving it deep into Frost's armor. The head of the spear pierced through, ripping at Frost's skin.

Frost was thrown backwards from the ferocity of the attack. She hit the ground hard, darkness taking her for a moment. _Damn me for letting my guard down_ she thought to herself. She had let her energy shield run out, and her shivering ice armor melt. She hadn't expected to fight so soon after arriving. She glared up at her attacker, oblivious of her wound.

The group of corrupted rogues stood in the doorway, laughing at her. The ten women were very pale, dressed in nothing but rags, with madness swimming in their eyes. The women finished their mocking, and began moving towards Frost again, each of them bringing their eight foot lances to battle readiness.

Frost felt a wicked smile form on her face. The battle was on, and she lived to fight. Frost leapt to her feet, and began teleporting herself around madly, stopping only long enough to cast one protective spell before teleporting again. After getting her energy shield and shiver armor cast, she shot herself several yards in front of the rogue group. Frost began to laugh herself as the familiar ball of ice formed in her hand. She threw it as hard as she could at the group. The ball flew unerringly to its target, shards of ice flying everywhere like angry hornets. The ball impacted into the twisted women with barely any sign of slowing them down.

"Cold hearted are you?" Frost growled at the rogues, but received no answer. _They are probably beyond human thought _she thought to herself. Frost changed her tactics, and again teleported herself a distance away from the ever advancing lancers. Frost called upon the power of lightning, feeling electricity flow between her fingers. She threw her hands forward, sending a streaking bolt crashing towards the rogues. It impacted the lead rogue, a horrid scream escaping her devilish throat. The bolt chained on, killing two more vile women before disappearing.

The rogue behind the lead pushed her comrade aside, seemingly not caring about her fate. She then charged Frost, moving with great speed. She thrust her lance out, intending on skewering the defiant sorceress. Frost was caught off guard by the agility of the lancer, unable to teleport to safety. She managed to turn and roll with the blow, even though it dented her armor, and she heard the rib underneath crack.

Frost rolled completely around bringing herself face to face with the evil woman. She quickly smashed her orb into the woman's head. She then turned away, and prayed these warriors didn't retain their senses. She quickly enchanted her boots to leave a trail of fire in her steps. She fled, praying they followed.

Luckily for her, they apparently weren't thinking nowhere as clearly as they used to, since the rogue she just struck and the one behind her both followed her directly, flames burning them fatally. That was half the pack of vile hunters down, with only a handful to go.

The remaining huntresses had developed a bit of intelligence, and began to change tactics. They quickly fanned out, and started to enclose the sorceress from all sides. They moved cautiously, but with murderous intent. They became a pack of predators, closing in on their prey, eager to end the hunt and enjoy the spoils.

Frost saw the opportunity and acted on it. She chanted softly to herself, and called down a meteor from the heavens to set the earth aflame directly where she stood. The spell had a few second delay, giving her targets a bit of time to get even closer, and a moment for Frost to lure them in and teleport to safety before the blazing ball of death struck.

Going on instinct, she teleported an instant before the meteor struck down. The flaming rock smashed into the ground, destroying the bodies of a couple of rogues, and inciting a firestorm in the vicinity. The flames leapt up, as though alive, and gracefully, hungrily, licked on the remaining two demons. Screams of pain issued from their lips, a horrid, angry sound, full of pain, and desperate for vengeance before embracing the silence of death.

Frost watched the fiery display with a certain amount of glee. She was proud of her power, arrogant in her abilities. Satisfied with herself, she turned away, and realized the grave mistake she had made. The last of the corrupted women hadn't been caught in the fiery inferno, but instead had hung back, looking for an opening to attack. Frost had just given her one, during her moment of self congratulations.

The crazed woman let out a scream, an utterance of victory and immediately thrust forward with her lance. The weapon impacted upon Frost's armor, and was quickly iced over. The woman wasn't bothered much by the chill, however, as they proved earlier by shrugging off the frozen orb. The bite of cold seemed to do nothing more than intensify her anger, and she drove even harder, shattering through Frost's armor and biting deeply into her right shoulder.

Frost was caught totally off guard by the attack. Pain seared through her as her shiver armor fell and the weapon began its journey through her flesh. She had neglected her energy shield, and it had dissipated. It could not have protected her from such a direct and powerful blow even had it been active. Frost realized the folly of her pride, but it was too late. The pain shattered her concentration, disrupting her spellcasting.

The invincible warrior that Frost thought she was just couldn't be found in that moment. She could not respond to the attack, just do nothing but lose herself in the pain that swept over her. Darkness came over her, and she knew her end drew nigh. The world faded to nothingness, and she prayed she found the peace she had so long sought.


	5. The Rescue

_Chapter 5, up and done. I hope it is enjoyable. As always, I ask that if you read, please review. Good, bad, indifferent, whatever. I just would like some feedback from my audience. My goal is to give you, the reader, an enjoyable story. Lemme know how I'm doing._

_Chapter 6 shouldn't be far off, it is coming along quickly. Maybe I'll be done in time to post it as a big ole Christmas present to the Net. But for now, I hope you enjoy chapter 5_

V

"Thank you very much, noble Paladin" Deckard Cain huffed, "Without you, I would have surely met my death by now"

"Mention nothing of it, good sage. However, it was not my scepter that saved your life, it was your magics that instead saved mine. Without your portal here, that lumbering zombie would have finished me off.

"Ah, yes, such a tragedy that one is. That zombie was once a close friend of mine, and a crucial help in defeating the Dark Lord when he appeared under Tristram. The zombie's name was Griswold, a peerless master smith. He could hone an edge sharp enough to split hairs, armor strong enough to withstand being crushed by stones, and enchant his works with magic so powerful to make even Tal Rasha envious. Not to mention being strong as an ox as well." Cain explained.

"Since you came and rescued me, I assume you are on a quest to rid the evil that has befallen the land. I will aid you in every way I possibly can. If you find any unusual items, you can bring them to me, and I will identify them for you. I will also impart my wisdom during your journey. With your battle skills, maybe I can help direct you in what course to take in this most epic of quests. Perhaps fate will be more kind to you than it was to the last hero."

"I am grateful for your help, wise sage, but I must continue on my quest" Luther answered as he strode away. A great sage Cain may be, but he definitely had a penchant for prattling on. Luther made another stop at Charsi's, paying her to repair his equipment. Upon finishing, he made his way to Akara's tent, seeking her council before resuming his quest.

"Hello Luther, I must thank you for saving Deckard Cain. He will be invaluable to not only us, but you as well. I know he is a fountain of words with no seeming end, but in that fountain can be found the waters of wisdom, do not forget that" Akara said, leading Luther into her small tent.

The air inside the tent seemed to be charged with magical energies, threatening to coalesce into bolts of power, straining to do so, but held in check by Akara's skills. Aromas of exotic herbs, and unknown concoctions danced around, hinting at the secrets of the power they held.

"Yes of course, without a doubt Cain is a man to be listened to well" Luther replied as his eyes adjusted to the dim candlelight that illuminated the makeshift laboratory.

Akara laughed lightly "Be sure not to waste valuable time however, sometimes Cain has to be prodded to get to the point.

"But enough about that. I'm sure you're quite ready to continue on, and I have good news concerning just that. Through my divinations, I have discovered the nemesis which you seek here. The Dark Lord has moved on, unfortunately, however, there is yet one here that continues to taint the land. She is a demon of great power and strength. The arch demon Andariel. She is Diablo's handmaiden, his concubine. If you are to help this land, and destroy the Lord of Terror, first you must remove her."

"I will do so, where does this hag of evil lie in wait?"

"Deep under the cathedral's monastery. On the third floor underground, you will discover your prey." Akara answered.

"Very well, I am off to free this land from the shadow" Luther said, turning back towards the flap that served as the tent's door.

"One thing before you go, Frost is still out there. There has been no sign of her since she embarked. I believe in my heart that she is still alive however. I can feel her powerful, arrogant aura in the air. But it is very weak, and I fear she has been injured." Akara said, as she produced a tattered scroll from the small satchel she wore at her side. "Take this, it is a town portal scroll. Use it to return here if you face a dire situation."

"Thank you Akara. I will watch for the sorceress, and return swiftly with news of Andariel's death."

With that Luther once again trekked into the evil wilderness beyond the palisades of the camp.

It took Luther little time to move down the road leading towards the monastery, since most of the foul creatures along the way had been slain by Luther's own hand, and the area beyond his travels to that point revealed frozen shards of demons, and large swaths of burnt ground, markers of Frost's trail.

Luther made his way to the entrance of the cathedral, the ornate wooden door standing imposingly as though a guardian of the terror inside. Chills raced down Luther's spine, and a cold hard ball of fear settled in his stomach. Frost's trail had led this far, leaving no doubt that she had entered this place. But what bothered Luther was the permeable sense of evil that set just beyond these doors, and seeped even into the area outside. There was demons on the other side, of that there was no doubt. Luther sighed to himself, bracing himself in case he found the remains of a young sorceress in the courtyard. A crazed warcry lifted Luther's head, and an instant later, a blazing rock fell from the sky, striking beyond the borders of the stone walls and cold wooden door. He had found his sorceress.

Luther quickly smashed through the door, and was greeted by the sight of a pale skinned, near nude rouge lancer driving her spear deep into the shoulder of a green clad sorceress. In that instant, Luther no longer saw Frost, but instead his vision swam with images of his beloved wife, and the murderous thugs that had killed her.

His rage was instantaneously uncontrollable. He would stop them, he would save his wife. He would change things, and not fail this time in his vow to protect her. He shot forward with such force and speed as to take back even the most powerful paladin. The Blessed Hand of Light went from an ornate, pristine symbol of purity to a bloody, ravaged nightmare of a weapon in a blink of an eye. Luther rained blows on the rouge so hard and so fast as to resemble an explosion.

With the final blow, that separated the rouge's arms from what was left of her torso, the spear that pierced Frost snapped off, a foot or so from her body. Frost's body, separated from the support of the rouge's strength, twisted and fell to the ground in a heap.

Luther watched as she fell, his mind not yet accepting this was not his wife. Pain seared through him, increasing his agony tenfold as he relived the feeling of failure to protect those he loved. His only recourse was the eradication of evil. Luther loosed a howl loud enough to split the heavens and turned to the three rouges left.

The demon women were standing a good ways off, finding their interest in the young sorceress had diminished a great deal upon seeing their comrade turned into a putrid, black, sticky cloud of blood in a blink of an eye by an armored man that seemed to appear out of nowhere. They held their lances at the ready, but made no offensive moves.

Luther's rage overcame him again, and he called down the power of Light from the very heavens, a brilliant flash of lightning swiftly arcing down to the ground, catching the middle rouge squarely on her head, reducing her to a split second scream and then a pile of smoldering ashes and a few twisted burnt bones. The other two rogues jumped away, startled. That was all the opening Luther needed. With the elements dancing about the head of his scepter, ice replacing lightning, fire replacing ice, he strode forward and struck.

The rouges fell quickly, and Luther ran back to the young raven haired woman lying on the ground, tears already streaking his battle worn face. He kneeled down, his vision clearing enough to realize this was not his departed love, but the young sorceress. The deep ache of loneliness that had occupied his heart since that fateful day settled in once again. Yet another warrior of Light lost to the forces of Darkness.

Luther bowed his head, about to begin the prayer that would help guide Frost's soul to peace, when a ragged, gurgling gasp escaped the woman's lips. Shocked, Luther jumped in surprise, and quickly came to realize she was not dead, just badly injured. Luther jerked off his gauntlet, and gripped the twisted, black shaft of the spear donated to Frost's flesh from the rouge. He gently moved the lance, testing its resolve to remain wedged in its current position.

With even the slightest movement, Frost shuddered in pain, wheezing breaths jumping from her throat. The spear did not wish to be freed, but Luther knew he did not have time to remove it properly. The metal tip of the weapon was a dull black, covered in what appeared to be dried blood, and some strange streaks that were surely a form of poison. Time for the sorceress was quickly running out.

Luther gathered his strength, assured he had a firm hold on the lance, and pulled straight up with all his might. Metal screamed as the tip fought for a grip as it was ripped back through her armor. Luther immediately tossed the shaft aside, as a geyser of blood shot from the hole left by the weapon. Blood sprung up, coating Frost's armor in crimson, and splattering on Luther.

Luther slapped his bare hand down over the wound, the sharp edges of Frost's armor exposed by the exiting spear head biting deep into his flesh, adding a small bit of his blood to hers. Regardless of the pain, he could not release, for to do so would be death for the young woman.

He cleared his mind of the pain, chanting softly the prayer to the Light to ward the poison, his aura beginning to glow a soft white, and growing large enough to encompass Frost as well. He then focused his power into his hand, bringing soothing magics to bear on the wound, inspiring her body to heal enough to stop the flow of blood.

Frost's breathing resumed a pattern closer to normal, easing Luther's mind. He lifted his hand, grateful as always of his small abilities of healing, for the cuts on his hand from Frost's armor had mostly healed while he was working on her. Frost's wound was still very serious, maybe even mortal if not attended to by a proper healer. Luther reached into the small pouch built into his plate belt, and retrieved a tattered old scroll. He unfurled it, reading the arcane words aloud, and making the gestures with his hand that Akara had shown him. A blue portal swirled into existence, a gateway to safety. Luther picked up Frost, holding her gently, and stepped through the portal.


	6. The Calm Before The Storm

_Hello again, yet another update, and so quick! I sure hope that the quality isn't suffering. I've just had the bug to write lately. In this chapter, our heroes are preparing for the final assault on Andariel. Frost's true nature should be becoming more apparent, along with the pain she is carrying inside her. Luther, on the other hand, is beginning to lose his composure, a dark omen for sure._

_To the reader asking about Paladins and marriage, I cannot remember if the documentation on the game provides any answers regarding that. It may do so, but that would kinda just screw up my whole story. I consider my paladin to be similar to the paladins in Baldur's Gate II. Especially Keldorn Firecam, and he was married with kids. He was my favorite character in that game, and fits my idea of what paladins are supposed to be. So that's where the inspiration came from. Also, to that reader and any other that reviews, either in the past or future, thank you for the feedback. I appreciate it a great deal._

_Obviously, leave me a review and let me know if I was able to entertain you. If I wasn't, let me know that as well. What you think is important to me. _

_Enjoy!_

VI

"Will she be okay Akara?" Luther asked worriedly.

"Yes, she will be fine, she just needs some rest"

Luther sighed with relief. Though he had failed at saving his wife, at least here was one woman that would continue to live because of him.

"Maybe this experience will cool that hot head of hers" Akara sighed "Something needs to, that's for sure".

"Well it is easy to become over zealous in the fight against Darkness" Luther offered.

Akara shot Luther a sarcastic glance, before heading back towards the tent where Frost laid.

Luther had thought more about his quarry while Akara looked after Frost, and had decided that he should seek the sorceress' aid to face Andariel. There was no sense in risking facing the demon queen alone if he did not have to. He would wait a few days for Frost to heal, then together they would vanquish evil, two warriors of Light, in glorious battle.

Over the next two days, Luther occupied himself with busywork while waiting for Frost to heal. He patrolled around the camp, destroyed a few camps of fallen, and speaking with Cain and the other inhabitants in the camp. Cain had told him of the original hero, and the tragedy that had befallen him. Kaysha swapped war stories with him, telling of the glory days of the Sisters, before the corruption began. Luther came to sincerely care for these people, shared in their pain and grieving for those lost, and would join in the revelry when Andariel was no more.

Late on the third afternoon after he had returned with Frost, while he was helping Charsi at the anvil, a bustle of noise rising up from Frost's tent drew his attention. Frost suddenly burst out of the front flap, striding confidently in the direction of the palisade gate. Akara stumbled out after, waving her hands in a vain attempt to slow the sorceress.

"You must not go! You need to rest!" Akara pleaded.

"Oh please, I am fine. Do you know who I am? I don't need your pathetic healing magics" Frost shot back, barely slowing her march.

Frost could not be allowed to leave in her weakened state, Luther knew. He stepped from Charsi's tent and moved toward the scene. "Sorceress, it is too soon for you to return to the fight. You were badly injured, and need time to mend. I know you must be eager to destroy the forces of evil, but you must be patient."

Frost stopped cold, and slowly turned to Luther, a burning arrogant look spread across her face. "Just who the hell are you, tin man?"

"I am Luther, a paladin in the service of the Light. It was I that came to your aid in the courtyard"

Anger flashed in Frost's eyes, born of the embarrassment of having to be rescued by another.

"How dare you interfere! I should kill you where you stand!" Frost hissed, ice covering her hand, and a small ball forming within.

"But without him, you would have surely died!" Cain interjected, hobbling as fast as he could, trying to place himself between her and Luther.

"That is why you still live" Frost said flippantly, the ball of ice dissipating. "This is just been fabulous, but I really must be on my way." Frost turned towards the gate, striding a bit slower this time, and trying her very best not to the pain her shoulder had begun inflicting, but failing terribly at it.

Irritation on the very edge of explosive anger streaked through Luther. The vision of the two of them fighting valiantly together was replaced by a vision of him strangling and shaking her until some sense shook into her head. With a slight mental focus, an aura of vigor settled over Luther, and he shot with blinding speed to the gateway, barring Frost's path.

"Get out of my way, tin man. I won't say it again" Frost growled.

"No, you cannot go. I bear you no ill will, it is for your best interest to stay at least until morning"

Frost's eyes narrowed to slits, a menacing glare springing on her face. If her look had been a sword, it would have sliced the strongest of armor. She lifted her hand, and lightning began flittering between her fingers.

Luther sighed, focusing his aura to protect him from all elements. "I will use force if I must." He raised his shield, blessed it, and steeled to take the sorceress down. Frost raised her hands, energy dancing about her fingertips, and paused there for a moment. A laugh erupted from her throat, and the spell died out. Frost let out a gale of laughter, her serious pose breaking down immediately. She stumbled around while she cackled, holding her sides.

Luther was baffled. One moment the woman looked to attack him, yet now, she was absurdly laughing and bumbling around as though she had heard the funniest joke ever. He was relieved that there was no fighting so far, but he was cautious still, she could be using the laughter as a diversion before striking.

Frost finally regained her composure, and walked up to Luther. "I get it now. You're scared to go out by yourself, aren't you tin man?" Frost said, as arrogantly as possible. "You want to wait until morning because you're scared of the dark, and want me to wait as well because you need my immense power to protect you, isn't that right?"

Luther's jaw nearly dropped off his face. How could this young woman, barely beyond childhood be so brazen? He had saved her life, and was she even a touch grateful? Not in the least, instead she was hell bent to plunge headlong into the same situation again. His mind couldn't even wrap around how someone must think to act like that.

"Now just wait a minute here. Don't forget that I was the one – "

"Fine, I'll babysit you. We leave first thing in the morning." Frost turned, and teleported out of sight, into her tent.

Anger and frustration washed over Luther. He spun on his heels and stormed to his tent. How could she dare think of babysitting him? He had saved her life! How insolent she was! Luther snapped up his shield and picked up a small cloth. He began cleaning the shield, his hands working off the stress and anger this young sorceress had inspired in him.

Frost nearly collapsed when she finished her teleport. She was still very weak, and truly needed her rest, but she could not allow the tin man to witness any more weakness in her. She fiercely wanted everyone to respect her, maybe even fear her for her immense power. It was all she had, and she felt truly worthless without it.

She did feel worthless however, because of that little display out there. The paladin had angered her by impeding her departure, and she had nearly attacked him. That is, until she saw the glowing multicolored aura encase him, and she remembered that paladins were nearly immune to most everything a sorceress could throw at them. A sorceress and paladin made good partners, but Frost could only see that a paladin was beyond her skill to eliminate.

As she realized that, it served to increase her anger, knowing that she could not take him down, along with the fact that her powers were still weak from the injury. She had to restrain herself, and groped for the only excuse she could think of, a spew of bravado that any fool could see through. Now she was even more embarrassed at how she had acted, even though at that moment she didn't feel like she had any other choice.

Frost let out a sigh, plopping down onto the blankets on the ground that served as her makeshift bed. Sadness swept over her, her magics being weak served to feed her anxiety over how people thought of her. She wanted to be liked by everyone, but also demanded that all she met admitted she was the most powerful sorceress around. People didn't take too kindly to her arrogance, however.

_If they won't like me, then respecting me is enough _Frost lied to herself. She desperately wanted both, needed both. Her mind wandered to the paladin, a warrior of great power, even she had to admit. But more than that, not only was he strong, but everyone in the camp seemed to take to him. He was respected, and she had overheard him speaking to everyone, and knew that they truly liked him, accepted him. She wanted to be like him, she just didn't know how.

Frost glanced around the tent, and strained her ears for sounds to reveal the presence of anyone near her lodging. Satisfied that no one could hear or see her, she allowed herself to indulge in the sorrow she felt. She pulled the ragged, worn pillow to her face and wept herself to sleep.

Frost stumbled out of her tent, bleary eyed still from sleep, to the sight of the bustling camp. Warriv was making his way around his wagon, checking to see if a stray breeze had dislodged a speck of dust from his precious cargo. Kaysha was pacing around the edge of the camp, instructing the few rogues remaining on their patrols for the day. Akara was working on some magical concoction, hanging over the small fire outside her tent, occasional puffs of colored smoke bursting out of the pot like thing she was tending.

Her attention turned to the center of camp, and the main campfire there. Cain, Charsi, and Luther were gathered round, talking and laughing. Charsi stood, waving her hands to and fro, apparently in the midst of telling a humorous story. Luther slapped his knee, bending over with laughter. Even Cain was shaking his head leaning on his staff heavily.

Frost couldn't stand Charsi at all. The woman just irritated Frost to no end. She was blonde, young, and beautiful. At this early hour, without the streaks of grime covering her face, her delicate features were even more apparent. Deep blue eyes set in such fair and flawless skin. She had yet to don her heavy work apron, leaving her stunning figure in view. Her ample breasts weaved and danced as she excitedly relayed the story she was telling.

Fire flashed in Frost's eyes at the sight of the tin man being so enraptured by that bimbo. She had no interest whatsoever in the paladin, but could not stand the idea of him drooling over that broad. It also stung that he was so comfortable with everyone, yet no one had even bothered to notice her coming out of her tent. She didn't understand it, and it angered her. She was more beautiful than Charsi by so much it wasn't even measurable anymore, and she possessed more power than Luther could ever imagine. Yet no one seemed to care to notice her.

"Well, I see that you've secured the camp, that must have been so much work" Frost grumbled, storming towards the town gate.

"Well good morning Frost" Luther answered, standing to move after her. "Are you feeling better this morning?"

Frost ignored him, pausing only long enough to look Charsi up and down disgustedly. Frost stopped at the gate, and quickly cast her defensive magics. Her shiver armor clanked on her, and her energy shield flashed over her. "Any day now, tin man" Frost shot over her shoulder as she started into the wilderness beyond the walls.

Luther grumbled to himself, allowing the vigorous aura encase him and started after the snotty sorceress.

They quickly arrived back where they had met, the courtyard of the cathedral still devoid of any activity. Luther was glad there was no resistance, for it gave him a chance to hopefully humble Frost a little on the way. She had attempted to teleport away and leave him behind, but she had not bet on the quickness granted him by his vigor aura. Every time she thought she got a good jump on him, she had turned to find him standing beside her smiling. Not only that, but her teleporting tired her a bit, drawing from her magical energies, whereas vigor did not draw anything, instead replenished his strength and stamina. His speed irritated her a great deal, and that amused him a great deal.

They quickly found themselves standing at the great door that led into the interior of the cathedral, where the battle would surely begin again. Evil and death hung in the air oppressively. With a quick glance at each other, they swung the door open and began their assault.


	7. The Demon Queen

_Here comes another installment of my little series. In this chapter, our heroes face off against a great evil, and begin to face their own emotions. I enjoyed writing this piece, I do hope you enjoy reading it. _

_Please leave me some feedback, as always. Remember I do value your opinion, good or bad. Thank you for reading._

_It should be no more than a week before the next chapter is posted. I hope you are looking forward to reading as much as I'm looking forward to posting. _

VII

The battles were difficult, and more than once each of the warriors had found themselves in spots they'd rather not be in, and luckily, each time, the other would swoop in and lend a hand. Luther's weapon and armor were covered in the vile blood of demons, and Frost was visibly weary from all the casting she had to do. Even in the face of such difficult challenges, they had made their way to the third floor, and stood outside the entrance to Andariel's chamber.

The pair took a moment to catch their breath before beginning the showdown against the demon queen. As Luther rested, he allowed himself a moment to be amazed at Frost's skills. She threw around walls of flames, ice balls, and bursts of lightning like they were nothing. Not only that, she had a deft ability to make sure nothing hit him. She could toss a frozen orb with so many shards of ice flying around in such a way that not a one hit Luther. Even more impressive, she seemed to be able to predict his movements and keep clear that area as well.

She was truly beautiful as well. She resembled his late wife so very much. Without even realizing it, he gazed at her almost lovingly. His eyes took in her sleek strong legs, the darkness massaging her bronzed colored skin. A short dark skirt covered her hips, tightly, hinting of the perfect shape hidden under, both front and back. Her hard flat stomach revealed itself in the gap between her skirt and top, looking like the softest washboard there could be. His gaze moved up over her top, a tight emerald cloth wrapped around her. Her large breasts rose and fell softly with each of her breaths, perfect in their form, appearing as though they wanted nothing more than to be free of their woven prison. Finally he brought his eyes to rest upon her face. Her small mouth, with full inviting lips, was topped with a petite nose, and large dark eyes that seemed to hold the mystery of the entire universe within them. The whole of her face was framed by deep raven hair, dark almost as the night, and as appealing as the call of a siren.

Luther drank in her beauty, enraptured by it, sparks of affection and caring beginning to dance in his heart, and fires of lust burning in regions lower. He was so preoccupied that he did not notice that she had become aware of his stares.

"What the hell are you looking at, tin man?" Frost snapped "Hey, this isn't the time to be having dirty daydreams, we have a job to do" She turned away, hiding the smile that revealed she was flattered and a touch excited at the thought of someone desiring her.

There it was the thing that reminded him this woman wasn't the same as the one he had called his wife, her attitude. His wife was a proper lady, and unassuming. Frost was brazen, arrogant and rude. Frost angered him so very much, but yet that did not completely remove the sparks he felt, just reduced them a good deal.

After Luther's face lost the red glow that Frost had placed on it, partly of embarrassment, partly of anger, he took a deep breath. He blessed his shield, and shouldered his way past Frost towards the door. He threw a dirty look back towards the sorceress, and busted the door open.

"Die maggots!" A raspy, menacing voice boomed across the large hall. A towering woman lumbered towards the heroes. She stood at lest ten feet tall, with four large insect like appendages sprouting from her back, augmenting her two powerful arms. She was wearing little, nothing but blood crusted black metal caps atop her large breasts. Her skin seemed to be tinted a stagnant green, the color of poisonous death. Her mouth revealed a bank of razor sharp teeth. She was a walking pillar of death, and looked ready to prove it.

Arrayed along the hall with the vile demon were scores of lesser minions. Small black fallen wielding large scimitars, large demons with huge gaping maws that seem to vomit out balls of lightning called Afflicted dancing around the fallen, and zombies, with rotting flesh falling from blackened bones all lumbered around the hall, guarding the great demon.

"Time to whip some ass!" Frost shouted, throwing a ball of ice into the horde of creatures.

Luther steeled himself before rushing headlong into a pack of fallen, and swinging furiously. Andariel marched towards the pair, smashing zombies out of her way. When she got close, she cast a poison spell, a circle of putrid air erupting from around her. The poisoned air encased the warriors, and they quickly found themselves infected with the infernal affliction.

Luther quickly brought a cleansing aura into effect, focusing the effect far enough to reach Frost as well. He did not pause in his assault, destroying the small fallen demons in a few blows. When Andariel approached close enough, Luther began alternating his attacks from fallen to Andariel.

The demon queen's skin was as tough as armor, but Luther did not relent. Andariel attacked back, smashing two of her claw arms into his armor at once, and immediately following up with a vicious punch. Luther staggered back under the force of the blows, losing his concentration. He swung his shield up blindly, trying to protect himself from the fierce strength of the towering demon. The fallen around him took advantage of his loss of focus, and struck hard with their swords, smashing them against into his armor. The afflicted, hanging around the edges, began belching lightning, each ball smashing into Luther with full force. Things were turning very badly for Luther, and he knew that without help, he was soon to fall. "Frost!" he bellowed, praying she would be able to assist him.

The sorceress spun around when she heard Luther call her name. He was in a bad spot, assaulted on all sides, and fading fast. Frost quickly turned back to the handful of zombies shambling after her, and called to being a firewall under them, felling a couple quickly. A well placed chain lightning bolt finished off the rest. Frost then teleported to the other side of the hall, close to Luther's position, and in a spot to allow herself optimum casting range.

She quickly surveyed the situation, deciding on the best course of action. The afflicted were standing off to the side, near the wall, expelling their charged balls. Frost raised her hands over her head, completing the casting gestures for her meteor spell. As she finished the afflicted took notice of her, and turned towards her. She quickly began forming fireballs in her hand and throwing them as fast as possible. She prayed the fireballs would prevent the demons from spewing their lightning and also hold them in place for the few seconds meteor needed to crash down. The fireballs did just that, the meteor flashed through the small portal created for indoor use and slammed down in the mist of the beasts. In an instant all the afflicted were slain, smashed and burnt by the spell.

She stole a glance at Luther, who had gone completely into defensive mode, doing nothing but attempting to parry incoming strikes. "Luther, salvation!" Frost shouted, indicating that the paladin should encase himself in the aura that protected him from elemental damage. Luther complied, and was instantly covered in the sparkling glow of the aura.

Frost let out a howl, a scream of unbearable rage, and teleported herself right against Luther. Before she even materialized completely, she began forcing magical energies out of her body, forming a ring of electricity that flew out of her belt, expanding and rushing outwards for several feet.

The power of the shock brought down all the fallen instantly and caused Andariel to stumble backwards a few steps. Luther took advantage of the interruption to activate his healing aura, replenishing both warriors' strength.

Frost nodded at Luther, and began throwing out an electrical field that had no effect on humans, but for some reason seriously injured hell spawn. It was not fatal, but helped to weaken her foes considerably. Luther, having recovered, charged forward and smashed his shield against Andariel, who was still stunned from Frost's nova.

Frost began forming a frozen orb to throw at the infernal concubine when suddenly she was grabbed from behind. A low groan filled her ears, and the smell of rotting flesh attacked her nose. One of the zombies had survived and was attempting to have a taste of her flesh. Panic flashed across Frost for a moment, but quickly faded as anger took over. She could not teleport away, her concentration broken. The zombie was apparently immune to her icy armor as well.

Frost did the only thing she could think of, she drew her elbow forward, and drove it hard into the zombie's chest. The sounds of decayed ribs snapping rang out, and the zombie, caught in surprise and pain, loosened his grip enough Frost could escape. She spun around out of his grasp, and brought her orb down hard against the zombie's skull. The monster staggered back, badly injured, but not out of the fight yet. He began shuffling back towards her, intent on finishing what he had started.

Absolute rage filled Frost, and she forgot that she was now clear enough to cast, instead she waited until the zombie was right in range, and shot her leg high in the air. Her boot met squarely with what was left of the zombie's nose and with such force that the zombie's head tore clean off its base. Black blood shot up out of the wound, and the body stood motionless for a moment, as if trying to decide on the proper course of action, before crumpling to the ground.

A scream filled the air, and Frost quickly turned about to see Luther standing before Andariel, as flames leapt up from the ground and consumed the demon queen. Andariel shook and shuddered in her death throes, spewing forth curses in some kind of hellish language. As she fell to her knees, the fire completely consumed her, and nothing but charred bones and burnt flesh hit the floor.

"The rogues will be safe….. for now" Luther uttered.

Frost just nodded solemnly. As the pair stood there, Frost noticed a large chest resting in the back corner of the room. Curiosity got the best of her, and she started towards it.

"Where are you going? Oh…." Luther said, discovering what had drawn her attention.

As Frost began to open the chest, Luther pulled her back quickly.

"What the hell are you doing?" Frost protested.

"It may be trapped, let me open it"

"You're just trying to make sure you can grab the good stuff first!" Frost said accusingly.

Luther shot a deadly look back, causing Frost to shrink away "Well, go ahead then" she offered almost sheepishly.

The lid was worn and old, but opened well enough. The chest was filled with gold, jewelry and various other good.

"Must be spoils Andariel took from the cathedral" Luther said to no one in particular.

A small reflection caught Frost's eye, and she gasped in surprise. "It can't be!" she exclaimed.

"Can't be what?" Luther said, puzzled.

Frost jutted out her hand, and suddenly a small amulet erupted from inside the chest, and flew to the sorceress, barely missing colliding with Luther's head. As soon as the trinket was in her hand, Frost held it tightly, cradling it against her chest, a gleeful smile painted on her face.

"What is it?" Luther asked, still clueless to what she had discovered.

"This, tin man, is an amulet of great power. Immense power, actually. I'm not sure, but I believe it to be Tal Rasha's Amulet" Frost answered, still gripping the talisman.

"You mean the famous sorcerer, Tal Rasha? The one that sacrificed himself to bind Baal?"

"Yeah, you idiot, that would be the one" Frost sneered.

Luther's face darkened, Frost's lack of respect bothered him a great deal. Instead of speaking to her of it, which would be a waste of time, he turned back to the chest, and began gathering the loot that would be of use to them.

Before Frost could step through the portal to camp she had opened, with her precious amulet in tow, Luther called her to him.

"Frost, I want to thank you for helping me back there. You truly saved my life" Luther said, placing his hands on her shoulders, and looking deep into her eyes.

"It was nothing" replied Frost, completely surprised. "Now you owe me one" she shot, recovering her composure.

Luther was confused. "I thought this makes us even, I saved your life, now you've saved mine"

"No, it doesn't. Me not killing you made us even for what you did for me, and now I've saved your life.

You owe me one" Frost explained.

Luther just shook his head. "Okay, okay, whatever you say"

"Exactly" Frost said triumphantly. She began to turn back towards the portal, but Luther did not release her shoulders.

"No, honestly, thank you" Luther reiterated, and drew her in, hugging her tightly.

Surprisingly, the sorceress did not attempt to pull away, instead clung tightly to him. Her breath ran warm on his neck, her skin so soft and smooth. He felt her breasts pushing hard against his armor, and desire flared in his heart and mind again. He pulled back a bit from her, and gazed at her face. It felt as though his head would explode if he did not taste her sweet lips, so he began moving in ever so slowly to do just that. Frost closed her eyes in anticipation, and leaned ever so slightly into him.

As Luther grew closer and closer the fires inside him burned hotter and hotter. An instant before his lips would have met hers, the images of his wife flashed through his mind. He remembered how his beloved had looked on their wedding day, the nights of passion they had shared, how she stood watching him ride away the last time he saw her alive, and how her broken body looked the day he found her.

In a blink, the fire he felt died, and the water of his wife's death extinguishing the flames completely. He immediately became unbearably disgusted at himself, as though this simple act of a kiss would somehow betray his love for his wife. He pushed Frost away forcefully.

"I can't do this" Luther whispered, turning and almost running into the portal, disappearing out of sight.

Frost lingered on a moment longer, completely baffled. It took her a moment to realize what had happened. She thought there was no attraction to the paladin, but now, in this moment, when he had moved to kiss her, she discovered she wanted it. She needed it. Her entire body was tingling at the thought of him pressing his lips to hers. Her knees felt like they were about to fail her. Not only was she attracted, she was nearly consumed, at least in this moment.

But something happened, though what Frost did not know. She was all ready to be swept away in bliss, but Luther had stopped, and then ran from her. What did she do wrong? She could think of nothing. She wanted him, she offered no resistance. The only thing that came to her mind was that she was not good enough somehow, for him. She was powerful, beautiful, she was everything. Why did fool turn away from her? She was even going to allow him the honor of kissing her. And yet he turned it down? Rage boiled in her, rage at Luther, and rage that covered the pain of what she now perceived as a direct rejection.

"How dare him!" She shouted into hall before storming through the portal.


	8. The Arrival At Lut Gholein

_Welcome back to my little tale, glad ya could make it! This update is coming the same as the last week or so, in pairs. I've just had a lot of fun writing this story lately, even writing when I could be playing Tony Hawk's American Wasteland. Needless to say, my kids are overjoyed, they usually don't even get to touch a new THPS game for like 3 weeks after we get it. _

_In this chapter, our heroes arrive at Lut Gholein, and a new woman comes into Luther's life. Will this new lady drive a wedge between our beloved paladin and the hottie sorceress? Only time can tell! _

_As always R&R please, god I'm just as tired for writing that as you are of reading it. Any input is appreciated._

VIII

"Well I'm glad that trip's over" Luther sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Tell me about it" Frost moaned "I had to ride all the way to Lut Gholein listening to Cain babble on and on."

"My words of wisdom are for your benefit, young warrior" Cain interjected, working his way off the wagon.

"Be quiet, old man!" Frost snapped.

Luther chuckled a bit to himself and took a moment to purvey the area.

Lut Gholein spread out before him, a tightly packed desert town fighting for existence in the arid region. The city was devoid of any true color, sand brown serving only to clash with the darker red of imported bricks. The buildings huddled together, in an attempt to stave off the harsh desert winds. An air of oppression hung over the area, the heat forcing the residents indoors until the late hours of the day.

The trip here had been harsh, but not unbearable. Andariel's death had cleared the way for Warriv to leave, and he had gratefully provided passage to the heroes in his caravan. Cain had tagged along for the trip, offering his wisdom for the great quest, much to Frost's chagrin. Now they had arrived in the desert town, and time had come for the hunt to begin anew.

Soon after arriving, Jerhyn, the lord of the town, came to discuss the ills that had befallen Lut Gholein.

"Welcome brave warriors, to the jewel of the desert, the port town of Lut Gholein. I am glad you are here, we have much need of your services."

Frost rolled her eyes "What makes you think we're here to help you? We're hunting the Lord of Terror himself, and don't have time for your piddling problems"

"Frost!" Luther snapped, turning to Jerhyn "Our time is indeed short, but we will aid you any way we can"

Jerhyn glanced at Frost apprehensively before continuing. "Well, some manner of evil has befallen our fair city here. Graves are giving up their dead, and natural animals of the desert are being warped, twisted, into aggressive, foul monsters."

"When did all this begin?" Luther inquired.

"Shortly after a stranger, clothed in darkness, passed through here, seeking Tal Rasha's Tomb" Jerhyn answered.

Cain gasped. "This is the fallen hero I spoke of" the old sage whispered to Luther.

"So the Dark Lord was here after all" Luther immediately became tense.

"Yes, but he has long since gone" Jerhyn assured him "about a week ago, he disappeared into the desert and hasn't been seen since. It was at this time that things started change. A few days after that, the last ship from Kurast arrived, bringing rumors of the same dark wanderer appearing in that city."

Frost sighed, "When you're ready to kill something, call me" she said, walking towards the center of the city.

Luther bit back the urge to chastise the brash woman, and instead turned to Jerhyn. "Please excuse her rudeness, she truly means no disrespect. Now, you say the wanderer has moved on, right? We need to pursue him as soon as possible. While we wait for the ship to Kurast to be prepared, we will do everything we can to solve the problems here"

"There will be no ship to Kurast leaving here any time soon. I cannot allow this plague of evil to escape the borders of this town. Until this problem is resolved, I have ordered all ships to remain docked, and all incoming vessels diverted" Jerhyn explained.

"But if what you say is true, then the darkness has already spread to Kurast!" Luther pointed out.

"That may be so, but I cannot risk being wrong. Nothing leaves until this curse is lifted"

"I suppose we have no choice but to help you then" Luther grumbled.

"I'm sorry. In the town square you will find Fara, a skilled smithy and healer. She was once a paladin herself, of the Order of Roses. Nearby is Drognan, a mage of considerable talent, and a very knowledgeable about local mystical history, Tal Rasha, and such. I must now retire to the palace, I'm afraid I cannot invite you in, the place is a bit of a….. mess right now. I await the news of your success against this fate that has befallen our city" Jerhyn said, before heading back to the palace.

"Take heart, Luther. Things are not as bad as they seem" Cain offered, placing his hand on the paladin's shoulder. "We have business here regardless. First you must retrieve the Horadric Cube from somewhere underneath the burning sands. This artifact will allow you to imbue items with magical energies, and will surely be of great use in the future."

Luther nodded. "Very well Cain, I will find the Cube. You said 'first', so I take it there is another task for us to attend to here?"

"There is, you must locate and secure Tal Rasha's tomb. Baal is imprisoned there, and we must be sure that the Lord of Destruction is not let loose."

Cain told the tale of how Tal Rasha had came to bind Baal's spirit within himself, and how he was entombed so that the demon lord would never taint the world of man again. As long as Tal Rasha was imprisoned, there was one less thing to worry about.

"Well, the hour grows late, and I'm not sure where Frost wandered to, so we'll begin our quest tomorrow morning" Luther said, before starting towards the center of town, and hopefully, an inn.

Cain nodded and hobbled along behind.

The center of town was a bit empty, four small walls enclosing what appeared to serve as a marketplace. In one corner stood a small tent, a stretch of canvas forming a roof over an anvil and other blacksmith equipment. _This must be Fara's tent_ Luther thought to himself, excited to meet a sister-in-arms, another who knew the ways of the paladin.

Before Luther could call out for the tent's inhabitant, Fara appeared. Luther was instantly awestruck by the woman. Her long, fiery red hair swayed gently in the arid desert breeze. She had green eyes that glowed like emeralds set against the milky whiteness of her face. She wore sensible, plain clothes that flattered her striking figure in such a classy way. Fara was very attractive, in an opposite manner from Frost. The sorceress oozed lust with her ample features, whereas this woman oozed class with her very feminine features.

"Wet met, brother paladin" Fara said, bowing slightly.

"Hail, sister of Light" Luther answered.

"How goes the battle against the Darkness?"

"It goes well, with the blessings of the Heavens."

"Come, you must tell me. I haven't spoken to another warrior of the Holy Ways in ages. I have much I wish to ask you" Fara pulled up a chair, offering Luther a seat under her tent and out of the sun.

A smile spread across Luther's face "Of course, I had hoped you would say that."

Luther spent the rest of that evening talking and laughing with Fara, talking about glory days past, battles hard fought, and mutual friends of the Order. He learned that she was just about the same age as him, and they had indeed met before, while both were training in their youth, and therefore knew many of the same knights and priests. It felt so good to find someone that understood him so well, Luther prayed that time would stand still while he enjoyed the company of his fine companion.

It was the small hours of the morning before the dawn when Luther finally stood and embraced his new friend before heading towards the inn. Frost had teleported herself to the roof of the inn, and watched silently. Fury boiled in her, from where she wasn't all that sure, but she knew she could not stand Luther being close to this red headed tramp.

Nothing had changed since the near kiss incident. The trip to Lut Gholein had been quiet, Luther had not avoided her, but yet had not come on to her either. He was just himself. Frost was still baffled by it all. She thought that she didn't care what he did, or who he did it with, but as soon as she noticed that he didn't leave Fara's tent in a timely fashion, she felt a deep burning in her heart. She was jealous. She didn't think she wanted him, but she knew she wanted him to want her.

So now she has found herself crouching on top of a roof, spying on a man she swore she didn't care about. No matter how embarrassing it was, even to herself, she could not bring herself to stop. Nor could she quell the rising anger she fostered for Fara. This woman had done nothing to Frost, said nothing, committed no sin against her, yet Frost still hated her. There was no way Fara could have known about what almost happened between Luther and her, but yet Frost still held her accountable as if she did, and was brazenly ignoring it.

When Frost was satisfied that Luther had indeed entered the inn and gone to bed, she teleported herself back into her room and tried to catch a bit of sleep. As soon as she laid down her head and closed her eyes, her mind spewed forth images of what she had witnessed, Luther and Fara sitting, talking, and laughing together, which only served to enrage the sorceress. No matter how hard she tried, the images just wouldn't leave her head, and sleep fled from her the rest of the night.

"Good morning Frost, are you ready to head out?" Luther said, strolling towards her.

Frost slinked to the gate of the town, her features as dark as any thunderous storm. "Yeah, I'm ready, that is if your little girlfriend doesn't mind you traveling with me."

"Oh, no, it's not like that" Luther chuckled "Fara and I grew up and trained in the same place, nothing more. I have talked to Cain, and the Capitan of the guard here, and believe I know where we're heading. There is a tomb called the Hall of the Dead where Cain believes the Horadric cube lies."

"Fine, let's go" Frost snapped, wheeling around and marching towards the gate and the desert beyond.


	9. The Deadly Halls

_Well, dear Reader, here we are once again. These last few updates are coming very quickly. I feel the characters are coming together, and I'm coming to some of the more exciting events in their stories. I'm really enjoying writing them, I do hope you enjoy reading of their exploits. _

_This chapter finds the pair once again in a tight spot. They are facing overwhelming odds. How will they make it out? Or is this the end of the road for one, or even both of them? Tune in next week for the exciting answer!_

_As always, please review, good bad or indifferent. Hey, thanks for stopping by!_

IX

The trip to the tomb went well, and quickly. The heroes did happen across a few puzzling sights on the way however, sporadically they discovered the corpses of some of the more powerful demons strewn across the ground. Someone had already been through here, but only engaged and destroyed the more serious threats. Hopefully whoever this warrior was, they would help them in their quest.

When the entrance to the tomb rose from the desert ground to greet them, Luther felt a steely ball of fear settle into his stomach. The tomb was sure to be tight and cramped. Cain had explained to him that these burial plots were constructed in ancient times, and were just as much catacombs as their cousins built under stone castles. It was going to be dangerous going that much was clear.

"I'm so excited!" exclaimed Frost.

"What?" Luther said incredulously "what about this is exciting?"

"We're finally going to get some real fighting in. So far all we've seen was a few overgrown buzzards and a couple sand worms. There should be some strong monsters underground though" Frost explained.

"We'll be facing the demons in a tomb they've made home for who knows how long. We'll be fighting in their territory, in dark, close quarters. I see nothing exciting by having the odds against us from the start."

"Whatever you coward. Let's hurry up and get this done before you piss your pants" Frost shrugged.

Luther shot the sorceress a disapproving glance and entered the dark, vile tomb.

Luckily the first floor of the tomb was filled with nothing but undead. Luther's sanctuary aura made short work of the skeletons and mummies clogging the passageways. The skeletons were little threat even in great numbers, nothing more than brittle bones packing small axes. The mummies, however, were a credible threat. They stood at least seven feet tall, and carried very large bladed weapons attached to their arms. They breathed a putrid mixture of decaying flesh and other foul substances, giving the air around them a poisoned quality. They also fired an evil version of a paladin's holy bolt, damaging living beings and resurrecting undead ones. Though they were relatively few scattered about thus far, they would be devastating in large numbers.

After discovering the stairs to the next level behind a rather large group of skeletons, the pair proceeded deeper. Rounding the corner, they stood at a crossroad in the path. A branch shot out in each direction, save south, which housed the stairway back towards the surface.

"Which way should we go?" Luther questioned.

"Hmmm…." Frost said, her brow furrowed in thought. "I say we go north."

"Why north? How do we know that's the right way?"

"I never said it was the right way, I just said that's where I think we should go! If you want to go another way, why in the hell did you ask me?" Frost snapped.

"You're right, I'm sorry. We'll go north, seems as good as any other way" Luther apologized.

They moved forward, passing another intersection and deciding to continue north until they were forced to change direction. Not far past the intersection Luther caught sight of the final stairway down, sinking deeper into the earth from its starting point on the far wall of a room directly in front of them. Luther called back to Frost of his finding, and believing the danger of this floor to be passed, relaxed his guard a good deal.

Frost did not rush to meet him, while relaxing some, she didn't completely drop her guard, and kept her distance of several feet behind the paladin, as was prudent for a mage to do. Something just didn't feel right to her. She could not put her finger on the problem, but she was convinced there was one.

Luther passed through the doorway into the final room containing the stairs and was caught off guard by a nasty surprise. A pack of salamanders had concealed themselves to either side of the door, a trap waiting to be sprung. The creatures were red, about the size of a man, and had foot long spikes of razor sharp bones upon their tails. As Luther came into sight, two salamanders on each side shot forward with blinding speed and thrust their tails forward, slamming them into Luther with such force that the paladin stumbled backwards into the hall several feet.

At this signal, scores of demonically twisted bats dropped from the ceiling, sparks of electricity arcing between their talons and each foot. The rest of the salamanders fanned out from beside the door, forming a half circle around the entranceway.

Upon hearing the deafening clang of the salamander's tail spikes against Luther's armor, Frost began throwing spikes of ice towards the door, hoping to chill the beasts enough to give the paladin a moment to recover from their stunning blows. The lead salamander froze, if only as long as a split second, but that was all Luther needed to recover. He swung with all his might against the demon, killing it.

The first salamander's death opened the doorway, and the rest began pouring through, crowding past each other. As they came out, they began surrounding Luther, executing short range charges, fiercely striking the warrior. The bats poured out as well, swooping down, and shocking him.

Frost began to panic. There was little she could do to help Luther. There were too many for her magics to handle. She was casting glacial spikes as fast as she could, but it was doing little good. She fell a few beasts, but there were always more replacing them, endlessly.

"Fall back Luther!" Frost screamed. She tossed a frozen orb, hoping to buy him some time.

Luther activated an aura of thorns, magically covering his armor in spikes. Every strike the creatures made, the thorns would bite them back, inflicting even more damage on the attacker than the paladin received. A few of the monsters fell from the damage, and the remaining creatures hesitated for just a moment, giving Luther just the opening he needed.

The paladin jumped back, activated his healing aura, and ran for all he was worth back towards the sorceress. Frost began to retreat as well, moving back down the hall towards the stairs back up. Right before they reached the intersection they had just passed, several mummies lumbered out from the shadows, halting the heroes retreat.

The demons slowed their pace, knowing they had the upper hand, and that victory was nearly certain. The pair stopped, standing back to back, watching the slowly advancing horde of bats and salamanders to the north, and the pack of mummies to the south.

"Looks pretty bad" Luther sighed.

"Don't give up, we can still get out of this, and if not, let's take as many of these bastards with us as we can." Frost said, determination setting on her features.

"You're right. I'll take on the salamanders, since their charge attacks will shred you up. You take the mummies, since I can't handle their bolts. And if you cast at the salamanders, remember that ice doesn't work"

Because of the situation, Frost didn't balk at someone else calling the shots, for once in her life. Instead she just nodded solemnly. "Let's do it."

Luther charged forward into the pack of salamanders, crashing into their line with considerable force. Frost teleported a short distance, and began calling firewalls up under the feet of the mummies.

Luther's blows were serving him well, felling a few salamanders very quickly. With each one that fell, another replaced it. There must have been dozen of them pouring out from their room. _Likely there is another hallway off to the side of the room with the stairs _Luther thought to himself. No matter how vicious his assault, he seemed to make no headway.

With one demon falling to Luther's left, another suddenly struck forward with a vicious charge, catching Luther completely off guard. The blow landed hard against his armor, piercing through and tearing at his skin. The pain made Luther reel, and he heard several ribs crack. Luther's vision swam as he felt blood gush from the wound left by the attack. The monsters around him took advantage of his lack of focus and struck hard. Blow after blow showered down on him, and he toppled onto the cold stone floor.

One of the mummies caught in Frost's firewall met its demise, but the other quickly moved out of the blaze. Frost focused, and released a bolt of lightning that struck a mummy square in the chest, killing it before crashing into the wall behind.

Frost teleported again, a bit to the side of the rest of the mummies, and stole a glance back at Luther. She caught sight of him as the salamander struck him down. She watched him fall to the floor, taken back by the sight. The mummies saw their opening and took advantage of it. They began casting unholy bolts at her, pelting her with great force.

The sorceress stumbled a little bit, disoriented by the attack. She quickly recovered her bearings, and turned to face her attackers. She attempted to cast, but was interrupted by a new volley of evil energy. Her only option was to relocate before pressing the offensive again.

Frost teleported to the other side of the hall, but yet was still dangerously close to the zombies. The zombies did not relent, but just adjusted their aim a touch. Bolt after bolt slammed into Frost and her vision swam with pain. She had no way out, no time to cast. There was little she could do to save herself and Luther had already fallen. Maybe it was truly the end for her.


	10. Keltar of the Bear Clan

_Another week, and another pair of chapters. I have just been having a blast writing lately, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. The story is nearly completely finished, only the trip through Hell left to go. There are some really exciting developments coming very soon, so be sure to check back next week for more._

_I'm on the verge of moving again, so I don't have net access at home, or else these chapters might come faster. But between the wife and kids, I don't get much time to jet over to my mom's house to post new material. I'll do my best to put out at least a chapter a week, every week. For the next few weeks, it'll be at least two, until I catch up with where I'm writing. _

_I'm considering a sequel/spinoff type idea, involving an Amazon, probably the one that escaped when Frost attacked in the beginning. If you'd like to read that, leave a review and let me know, and I might just write it up. Well, enjoy this week's chapters!_

X

As Frost sank to her knees and darkness began overtaking her vision, a thunderous roar erupted from somewhere down the east hall, behind the pack of mummies. The cry was powerful and deep, but more importantly, human. The monsters, startled by the sound, turned to investigate, allowing Frost a moment to hide behind a stone pillar.

A whooshing sound echoed down the hall, immediately followed by smashing of steel against flesh. Frost peeked around the pillar to see the mummies in the direction of the noise erupt in showers of blood. They were sliced in half at the waist, their torsos flying away from their bodies and smashing into the walls. The lower portions were knocked away by what appeared to be a human cyclone with weapons of some kind jutting out from its center.

The whirling stopped, and there stood a mountain of a man, wielding a sword in one hand, and a large axe in the other. He was nearly bald, except for a single lock of hair emanating out of the back of his head, as black as death itself. He was clothed only in a loin cloth, and a pair of thick knee high boots. A blue tattoo ran down his cheek vertically, imitating a great scar. His entire body seemed to ripple with muscles, and it was obviously apparent that this man possessed incredible amounts of physical power.

"A barbarian!" Frost whispered breathlessly. These men were rare to see, almost legendary. They very rarely left their highland home far to the north. Since travel to their homeland was hard, and being deemed worthy of admittance even harder, most people had never laid eyes on a barbarian, but all had heard of the mighty fighters.

The barbarian stopped only long enough to regain his balance after his whirlwind attack and immediately drew out a pair of throwing daggers from his belt. Gripping them deftly in the same hand as his sword, he drew back and tossed them at the remaining two mummies. Both blades flew true, and caught each mummy directly under the chin, killing them nearly instantly.

The man then turned and saw Luther lying on the ground. Before he could move towards the fallen warrior, one of the salamanders charged forward in a striking attack. The barbarian did not even flinch away as the beast flew towards him with lightning speed. Just at the instant when the viper leaned forward to jab with his tail, the man drew his axe back and swung hard. The axe was turned, so that instead of the blade striking, the flat side would connect instead. It crashed hard into the salamander's head, removing it instantly from it's base, and causing it to fly off to side, and bounce off the wall. The monster's body didn't have time to realize it had perished and so continued on in its attack. The tail flew forward, but the barbarian caught it with ease, and tossed the body to the opposite wall of the head.

A low growl issued from the man's throat. The remaining monsters squandered the moment they had to reconsider how to proceed against this powerful new threat. The barbarian shouted and leapt into the air. He sailed farther than any human had a right to, and landed right in the middle of the demonic pack. Fear gripped at Frost's heart again when she witnessed the warrior's move. Luther had fallen from just dealing with the outer edges of the pack, less lone being in the middle of them.

Her fear was unfounded, however, for the barbarian started making quick work of the monsters. He began swinging his sword and axe in rapid succession. With each blow landed against a minion of hell, the barbarian's speed increased. Before long his weapons were moving almost too fast to be seen. His attack wasn't as fast as Luther's zealous rage, but still faster than any normal person's. He was in no danger, that much was certain.

Seeing that the battle had turned in her favor, Frost ventured out from behind her pillar, rushing over to Luther. She dragged him away from the fighting, leaning him against the wall. She pressed her face against his helmet and was relieved to feel his ragged breath on her face. _Still alive, barely _Frost thought to herself, but not for long if she couldn't get him back to town. She checked his side, looking over his wound. The bleeding had slowed considerably, but had not stopped. She quickly reached down, gripping the strip of long green cloth that hung down from the front of her skirt decoratively, and tore a large piece of it off at the bottom. She balled the cloth up and thrust it into the hole in Luther's armor, ensuring it would place pressure on his injury and hopefully stop the bleeding.

Satisfied that she had done all she could for the paladin, she stood and returned her attention to the battle. The barbarian was still swinging his weapons with wicked speed, and the endless horde had been culled down to only a handful remaining creatures. Frost stepped to the side, away from the wounded paladin, and fired a bolt of chain lightning that danced from creature to creature. It failed to kill any of them, but did serve to weaken them to the point where a single blow from the barbarian destroyed them. One more chained lightning, and a few more seconds of the barbarian's frenzied swings cleared the opposition.

The barbarian gathered a few corpses and moved into the stairway room. He quickly set up grim, grisly totems with the remains of the slain creatures at the doorways leading to side rooms, which existed on both sides of the main chamber. The gruesome sight would serve to ward away the demons from the area, allowing a portal to town to remain secure enough for the band to use for a return trip.

As soon as the wards were in place, Frost used the scroll she obtained from Drognan to cast a town portal. She grabbed Luther and attempted to lift him. She failed miserably however, the weight of the man might have been manageable, but together with his armor was more than she could bear. Not willing to give up, she gripped the paladin's arm, and pulled for all she was worth. Luther slid a small amount, but nevertheless, he did move. It would take some time to move the man the few feet to the portal, but Frost could do it.

The barbarian trotted up to Frost, and pulled her away from Luther, gently but firmly.

"I got him, you go ahead" he said, nodding his head towards the portal.

Frost stared hard for a moment, then nodded her head and stormed through the portal.

"Well, lets get you some help, buddy" the man said, scooping up Luther and stepping through the portal.

"Help! We need help over here!" Frost shouted, emerging from the portal.

Frost ran for Cain, waving her arms frantically.

"Slow down young one" Cain said, holding his hands up in a defensive manner. "What is the matter?"

"It's Luther" Frost said, catching her breath. "He's been badly wounded."

At that moment, the barbarian stepped through the portal into the town, carrying Luther in his arms. "We need a healer over here" he bellowed.

Fara had been watching the town portal in anticipation of congratulating Luther for retrieving the cube. Instead of the paladin returning from a mission completed, he was carried in by a barbarian, and appeared to be grievously injured. Fara ran to Luther, quickly taking charge of the situation.

"Take him to the inn, and get him into a room immediately. I'll gather some medicinal herbs and be right there" she directed. "Go now!"

In a matter of minutes since the group had arrived in town, Luther had been placed in a room, stripped, and bandaged. Fara had run everyone out of the room save Cain and the alchemist Lysander. Frost had protested a great deal, even threatened to use her magic to teleport if she had to, prompting Cain to place anti magic glyphs around the room to stop her, before he urged her out of the room.

Frost stepped outside and teleported herself to the top of the ten foot wall that surrounded the town. She sat, watching the sun set over the golden desert, attempting to gain an understanding of her own feelings. She truly thought that she did not care for Luther, but yet here she sat, furious that Fara was in the room with him, and she wasn't. She couldn't seem to get her mind off of the idea of that other woman caring for the paladin.

She was jerked from her brooding by the sound of a deep grunt. With the grace of a cat, the barbarian landed beside her on the wall.

"Mind some company?" the warrior asked.

"No, I don't mind. Did you jump up here?" Frost responded.

The barbarian just smiled and nodded. Frost was amazed, she had seen him jump, but didn't imagine he could clear such a distance as to the top of the wall, and do so without even any sign of effort.

"What is your name? Or should I just call you wonderboy?" Frost queried.

"Ha! Wonderboy! That's a good one!" The barbarian chuckled. "My name is Keltar, of the Bear Clan."

"Well, Keltar, of the Bear Clan" Frost said mockingly "What are you doing here?"

"Just doing the usual, looking for loot and a demon strong enough to put up a good fight" Keltar said, stretching. "By the way, don't worry about me helping back there, you're welcome"

"Yeah yeah" Frost responded, with a wave of her hand. "I'm Frost, and the paladin is Luther."

"So Frost, why are you guys here?"

Frost told Keltar of all that had happened, and went on to discuss some of the more exciting events of her life. Keltar listened to every word, and did the same, telling of his history with his clan. They stayed on the wall for hours, swapping battle stories, rumors of loot, and anything else they could think of. The barbarian was most impressed by Frost's abilities, noting repeatedly of how strong her magic was. Living in the frigid north, he had seen little magic at all, and no offensive spells. With every compliment to her skills, Frost's ego grew another size.

When they finally parted company, Frost checked in on Luther, or attempted to at least. Fara's quarantine was still in effect, the door locked, and the anti magic field still in place. The innkeeper told Frost that Cain had reported that Luther was going to make it, but was still unconscious. Irritated, Frost made her way to her room.

As Frost lied in her bed, vision of Keltar, not Luther, ran through her mind. The barbarian was so overwhelmingly powerful. Luther had wounded while fighting on the edges of the demonic group, yet Keltar leapt into the middle of the pack and had slain them all, and done so quickly, and without injury.

Frost was attracted to power, and found herself extremely attracted to this newcomer. He was the polar opposite of a sorceress. She was immensely powerful in the elemental arts, he was amazingly strong physically. Part of his attraction for her was just that, he would not impede on her magical territory, just as she would not impede on his physical expertise. _How perfectly matched we would be! _Frost thought to herself.

The thought of the paladin wormed into her mind, interrupting her adoration of the barbarian. She was annoyed by Luther, because of what had to come to pass. He had fallen, to a group that Keltar had handled deftly, lowering Frost's consideration of him a great deal. Not only that, but his attachment to Fara troubled her deeply as well. She had decided that she truly wasn't interested in the paladin, but instead would rather pursue the barbarian, but yet she loathed the idea of anyone, especially Fara, holding any sway over Luther.

She did not want him, but she fully expected him to love her, to pine for her, to be miserable alone without her. He couldn't have her, but he was not free to have another either, at least in her mind. This stance made Frost hate Fara that much more, for trying to be close to Luther. Anger welled in the sorceress.

Frost turned her mind from the thoughts of the red headed whore, and back to the gorgeous barbarian, falling to sleep with dreams of kissing him floating through her mind.


	11. The Fall of Duriel

_Here is the last chapter in this week's posting. This chapter deals in some dark happenings for Luther, events that may either lead to his downfall, or his ultimate triumph. Frost is showing her colors even more here, though it could either be ego, or it could be her hiding the pain she has inside. Which it is, well only time will tell. _

_This is kind of a long chapter, but I felt it all needed to be together. Hope I don't give anyone eye strain! I think the end of the chapter is worth the long read up to it. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!_

XI

"What do you mean you retrieved the cube without me?" Luther cried.

"You were hurt, and needed to rest, so I figured I'd help you out" Keltar explained.

"Well, thank you for the help, but I truly wished you would have waited for me. I am part of this quest as well!"

"It was okay, I took Frost along with me, and she did enough to cover both her part and yours. Besides, it's only been four days since you were injured, you should still be resting, not rushing into battle" Keltar said.

"Yeah, don't overdo it, tin man" Frost said arrogantly.

"You're right" Luther said, turning to walk away. "I shall go speak with Cain and find out where we should head next."

Luther was truly confused. He remembered being struck hard, pain piercing his side, then nothing but darkness. His next memory was awakening to the sight of Fara's face above him, at the inn in town. He had spent the past days recovering from his injury. In that time, his friendship with Fara had grown, though contrary to Frost's belief, it was purely plutonic. Luther had little interest in romancing the fire haired woman, having grown to see Fara like a little sister.

He had discovered the details of his injury, and of the timely intervention of Keltar, saving his life. He, like Frost, was impressed by the barbarian's strength, though humbled a bit by being in need of it. He was grateful that the barbarian had agreed to join them on their quest, even if he only did so for selfish reasons.

He noticed that Frost was quite taken by Keltar, and seemed to hang around him like a lost puppy. Luther was a bit angered by this, but did his best to ignore his feelings. He figured her attraction to be nothing more than a passing crush. Luther had not planned on a relationship with her, even though he had nearly kissed her previously. He denied, even to himself, his feelings for her, forcing himself to believe he didn't care for her that way. Yet, in the back of his mind, he could not stand the sight of her fawning over any other man.

Her fawning wasn't the only irritation in his mind, however. Every since he was injured, Frost seemed to act like he was a complete washout, unable to engage nothing larger than an unruly sewer rat. She sneered at him every chance she got. Luther wanted to slap the smirk off her face, wanted to remind her that it was he who had saved her life back in the monastery courtyard.

She seemed to have forgotten that incident, and now had led Keltar in retrieving the cube. He had lost a chance to redeem himself in her eyes. He reminded himself that he cared not for her opinion of him, yet his heart screamed with pain at the thought of losing stature in her eyes.

The next few days flew by for the heroes. They had retrieved the Staff of Kings from an infested maggot worm den, engaging in close quarter battles in the putrid poisonous tunnels. The den was crawling with dung beetles, man sized monstrosities that resembled some form of insect, and had the graciousness to emit flitting bolts of electricity when struck. Keltar shrugged off the shocks, due to his natural resistance to the elements, but Frost and Luther would have surely perished without Luther's salvation aura.

On the third level of the lair the heroes had discovered the maggot queen, a large orange worm, still partially buried in the desert ground. The queen was a dozen feet long, at the very least, and guarded by numerous smaller maggot worms. They were packed into the small chamber so tightly they could not move without walking over each other.

By the time the warriors had worked their way in and slain the queen, the blood of the worms was ankle deep. They took the staff from the chest the queen was guarding and made their way back to town, glad to be out in the sun once again.

From there they had moved on to finding the Viper Amulet, which when combined with the Staff of Kings, would form Tal Rasha's Rod, which was needed to open the way to the sealed chamber he was held in. The warriors knew that he likely had company there, hopefully the Dark Lord concealed as the wanderer himself. Hopefully they could end the quest there, and prevent Baal from being released.

The amulet was kept on an altar in the Valley of Snakes. The demons had overrun the area, however, forcing the trio to fight their way in. The valley was properly named, vipers were everywhere. They were man sized creatures, their two hands ending in razor sharp claws. They also had tails, coming to a sharp bone point like the salamanders that ambushed Luther and Frost. In fact they were virtually identical, save their dull grey color and the fact they were much stronger, faster, and tougher.

The group made their way into the temple located in the valley, and began their trek for the amulet. The vipers mixed in skeletons and mummies into their forces inside, making for impressive packs of foes. They slowed the heroes some, but with the heroes combined might, they were able to press through.

After going the wrong direction once, and discovering nothing but a dead end, the group finally found the correct hallway that led to stairs down to the altar. Upon entering the altar room, the group was ambushed by a large group of vipers. One viper stood out, a leader of the group. This viper had considerable might. Every strike it made carried a magical frost that chilled the victim to the bone. The rest of the vipers fell quickly, but it took a combined effort to bring the boss viper down.

With all the vipers dead, the heroes claimed the amulet from the altar, and returned to town. Luther placed both the staff and the amulet into the cube, and closed it. By some magical means, the one foot cube held inside it a four foot long staff. Luther turned the cube over twice vertically, bringing the top to face up, and then rotated the item four times in place, before pressing the button featured prominently on the lid.

The cube shook violently, and magical energies crackled in the air. After a moment of shaking, a brilliant light emitted from the edges of the light, accompanied by a magical metal tone. Luther carefully opened the lid to the box, and discovered an ornate brass head standing erect. He pulled the head upwards, only to find it was the cap piece for a staff. As Luther pulled the wooden shaft was revealed, and finally another ornate piece of brass that served as the staff's foot. In all, the staff that emerged from the foot tall cube was nearly five feet long.

"Ah, Tal Rasha's Rod!" Cain exclaimed. "With this, you can complete your task here. Quickly make your way through the arcane sanctuary to the canyon of the magi."

"Well, lets get moving" Keltar said, walking behind Frost. He slapped her ass hard, causing her to jump.

Instead of her raining fiery death upon him, she blushed hard, with a lusty burning look in her eyes.

Luther sighed, such displays had become common between those two. Throughout their travels, the pair had flirted a great deal, dancing around the edges of outright lewdness in both deed and word. Luther desperately wanted to keep the pair apart, but could not allow himself to speak up about it. If he did so, he would have to admit to himself that he wanted to be with her, and that was something he wasn't ready to do.

The trio quickly moved through the harem under Jerhyn's palace, and into a portal leading to the arcane sanctuary. The sanctuary was a strange place, seeming to exist outside any normal place thinkable. It was as if the entire place was hung in midst of the stars themselves. Cold stone paths struck out in each of the four cardinal directions, single walkways that split apart after a dozen yards or so. The branches flowed in opposite directions briefly before resuming their march forward in their chosen direction. Essentially the pathways formed a large box, with a dead end path forming from the top.

They had split up to tackle the area, Luther going down one side of the box, Keltar on the other. The sides were close enough together that the warriors could see each other. They were too far for Keltar to jump, but not for Frost to teleport, and she did so, providing support when needed.

It took the group three tries before discovering the correct direction to go. When they finally made their way to the end of the path that contained the magical book they were searching for, they were met by the ghostly visage of the Summoner. The magic casting spectre threw about glacial spikes and firewalls like they were toys. Luckily Luther had his salvation aura active, reducing any damage taken to minor injuries easily healed by health potions.

After the Summoner fell, they read the book he was protecting, learning of the true mark of Tal Rasha's tomb, and opening the portal to the canyon where it lied. When they stepped through the glowing red portal, they found they were no longer in space, but back in the sun blasted desert. Several tombs were spread out against the wall of the canyon, but only one carried the mark they sought.

They entered and worked their way through, beset by monsters on all sides. It took a great deal of time and fighting to move forward even a few feet. After several hours, and a handful of trips to town for supplies, they finally arrived at their destination.

They could see at the end of the hall that they had entered a room, with a large altar of some type reaching up towards the ceiling. This was the altar for the Rod that would open the way to Baal's prison chamber. Luther, having learned his lesson from the ambush, motioned to Frost and Keltar that he would shoot forward into the altar room, allowing a pincer attack if indeed there was an ambush waiting.

Luther charged forward, nearly crashing into the altar. He quickly turned, and sure enough, there stood a myriad of monsters, waiting for the heroes to arrive. Luther charged again, crashing hard into the pack of skeletons standing to the left of the door. The skeleton he struck instantly crumbled into a pile of bones.

Luther began swinging fiercely, striking bony skulls with his trusted scepter. These skeletons were a bit tougher than normal, and did not fall very quickly. Suddenly from the very corner, a large figure loomed up. A mummy had been hiding behind the skeletons, on its knees. _Damn it! _Luther thought to himself. If he had known there was a mummy, he would have attacked it first. Instead the mummy had time to cast, firing a dark bolt into the first skeleton that fell. The mass of bones quickly reconstructed itself, and the skeleton resumed his attacking as though he had never fallen.

A flapping noise arose from behind the paladin, as a pack of shocking bats swooped down. Luther quickly raised his arm, and a magical hammer shot forth from his hand, and spiraled around him. It struck each creature hard, stunning them briefly. This allowed Luther to quaff down a healing potion, recast his holy shield, and resume the attack. He was in a tight spot, but not a desperate one.

Meanwhile, the pack of monsters that had waited on the right side of the doorway had charged forward and blocked off the passage. This served to separate the warriors in such a way that Keltar and Frost could not see Luther, and vice versa. Keltar was swinging his weapons furiously, but was not making quick progression. Frost threw spell after spell, but the creatures were slow to fall.

Even when one did, it wasn't a moment later before the mummy resurrected them, nullifying their work. Keltar realized that taking out skeletons three or four times before they stayed dead wasn't going to work. Luther might be in trouble, and if so, they would have to move much faster.

"Frost! Teleport in and take out the mummy!" Keltar bellowed.

Frost nodded and quickly disappeared, teleporting into the interior of the room. She quickly raised a firewall that spread from under the feet of her target all the way over to the wall, and under the mummy that had beset Luther.

Both mummies died from the fire, not able to move quick enough to escape its deadly flames. The skeletons that were attacking Keltar turned to face her. They began advancing towards her, surely with revenge on their minds had their skulls carried any conscious thought.

Frost remembered that the rod shaft was made of wood, and how important it was that the rod remained undamaged. She quickly removed the artifact from her back, where she had been carrying it since they had entered the tomb, and threw it towards the altar. Using her telekinetic abilities, she guided the staff right above the altar, standing it up vertically. She released it, and it fell down into the small hole in the center of the altar.

The room began to shake violently, and lightning issued forth from the altar and crashed into the far wall with a thunderous roar. The wall, defeated in this attack from the altar born bolt, crumbled away, revealing a large hole covered in darkness.

The diversion created by the quaking allowed Frost enough time to teleport back behind Keltar. She resumed throwing frozen orbs and glacial spikes at the remaining skeletons, which were disoriented by her disappearing act.

Keltar took advantage of the opening as well, using the spare moment of distraction to begin his whirlwind attack. He spun up to speed rapidly, becoming nothing but a blur with weapons. He crashed into the skeletons, quickly reducing them to dust. The doorway now clear, Keltar turned to Luther.

Luther was still hanging on, raining blows down on the creatures around him. There were still a good deal of bats and skeletons, but Luther knew he would win this battle.

"Luther, duck!" Keltar yelled out.

Luther did so, and the barbarian whirled into the pack, demolishing the remaining beasts. Luther stood as Keltar spun down, and drank a health potion, restoring him to full strength.

"God, Luther, that's twice you've had to have your ass saved" Frost said, as she sauntered into the room.

"I didn't need any help, I had it covered" Luther grumbled.

"Yeah, sure you did. I swear you are becoming more and more useless all the time" Frost shot back, as she walked to Keltar's side. "You, however, were magnificent" she said to barbarian. Frost then leaned up, took Keltar's face in her hands, and kissed him hard.

Keltar was surprised, but quickly recovered, and kissed the sorceress hard back, his hands finding their way around her. He worked his hands down her slim, powerful body, and pulled her tight against him.

Rage, pure furious, murderous rage shot through Luther instantly. There was no denying now that he wanted Frost, maybe even loved her. He could not stand the sight of her kissing another man. It was just too painful.

As the pain and anger coursed through him, he began to shake, and his thoughts became muddled. Auras shifted and swirled around him, pausing for only a brief second before being consumed by a new one. With every split second, the shifting became faster, until it seemed to be only one powerful white aura encasing him. His shield somehow blessed itself, glowing white. The magical energies of the shield moved into his armor and body, and suddenly his entire armor glowed the same white.

He had completely lost control of his powers, and became consumed by his pain and anger. He was in this moment at least, no longer a paladin, he wasn't even Luther anymore, but instead a creature bathed in the holy powers of the Light, born from thoughts of Darkness. He was the closest any mortal could come to an Angel of Death.

Luther threw his shoulders back, facing skywards, and released a tremendous scream. White light issued out of his mouth and eyes, consuming all shadows in the room. When the anguished cry ended, Luther turned to the couple, who had abandoned their kiss and any other lustful thoughts in the wake of these events, and gave them a hard stare. Luther's eyes, however, were no longer their usual deep brown, but instead were pure white, and glowing.

Luther, though his armor and even his eyes were covered in Light, retained enough of his conscious thought to know not to attack either of the two warriors. Instead he turned silently to the gaping hole in the far wall that stood like a demonic mouth, and served as a gateway to Tal Rasha's chamber. He charged forward into the hole, his speed at least three times faster than normal. He moved so quickly as to seem to teleport, leaving the lovers in the chamber to ponder what had just transpired.

Apparently the Dark Wanderer had indeed beaten the party here, since the Lesser Evil Duriel defended this place. Calling Duriel lesser of anything was truly a disservice. The beast towered a good nine feet, and only a touch shorter than Andariel. What he lacked in height, he made up for in length. He appeared almost insect like, a long abdomen stretching behind him, with several small legs attached. His torso was covered in skin as hard and thick as any plate armor, with two huge hook like arms attached. His eyes glowed a sickly, evil yellow, and his mouth was filled with razor sharp teeth. An aura of perpetual, magical cold surrounded him, completing the gruesome package.

Luther was not fazed in the slightest, however. He was alone with the demon, and so he allowed his holy rage to take completely over, wiping any vestiges of human thought from his mind. Duriel charged the paladin, only to have Luther step to the side at the last instant and grab one of his arms. Luther pulled with all his might, and combined with the momentum of the charge, was able to launch the beast into the wall. Duriel crashed into the wall with a mighty thud.

Duriel turned, stunned. The demon had never seen a human move that fast before, nor had he ever seen one that could resist his chilling aura. Luther had done both, and seemingly with little effort. Duriel wasn't about to give up, and once again charged forward, his arms flailing.

Luther crouched as the demon charged, and a split second before impact, he jumped. He landed on Duriel's head, and began to rain blows down as hard as he could. The demon screamed in pain, throwing his head all around, dislodging Luther. Luther landed directly behind the creature, and immediately seized his tail. Giving a loud grunt, Luther snapped the vile tail around to the left, throwing Duriel against the wall, a feat that should have been impossible for a mortal.

As Duriel struggled to rise from the impact, Luther shot forward in his own charge attack. The demon wasn't as fast as the paladin, apparently, for Luther struck hard and true. Duriel had nowhere to go, and bounced into the wall again. Luther did not relent, instead began his zealous attack, quickly breaking through the monster's tough skin. A huge gaping hole opened in Duriel's chest, and Luther's scepter became stuck in his hide. Luther released his weapon, and thrust his hand deep into the demon's chest. He grabbed the demon's black heart, and ripped it out.

Duriel howled, dark, sticky blood issuing from his wound. The large demon began to fall, the life draining from him. Luther quickly stepped aside, allowing the demon to crumple to the floor. As Duriel landed, the sickly glow fled from his eyes.

Luther jutted the heart up high, as though it was an offering to the very sky. The light began to flee from him, his armor and eyes returning to normal, and his thoughts became rational again. He did not remember everything that had just happened, just remembered seeing Frost and Keltar kissing, and then a blur of the battle with Duriel. He finally recovered completely from his condition, and noticed he was holding Duriel's heart still. He threw the vile organ away, disgusted.

Frost and Keltar finally emerged through the hole, gasping as they took in the scene. A normal Luther standing beside the fallen carcass of Duriel was the only features of the room. A new door had opened opposite of the entrance hole, leading deeper into the tomb.

"What the hell happened?" Frost demanded.

"Yeah, you went all crazy, and just stormed in here" Keltar added.

"I'm not sure what happened, I just felt this power overwhelm me" Luther said, knowing full well what triggered the anger, but playing dumb nonetheless.

"Holy Hell Luther! You killed a Lesser Evil alone!" Frost exclaimed, looking over Duriel's corpse. "That is unbelievable! No human has this much power!" Frost was beside herself.

"Wow, that is amazing, Luther, truly" Keltar said, trying hard not to be awestruck himself.

"It was nothing, really, I just got lucky, that's all" Luther tried to play the whole thing off. "Let's see what else is in this tomb."

Behind the door leading deeper was a short hallway that made a right turn, leading to an open chamber. To the heroes' amazement, standing in this chamber was an angel. The celestial being was clad in golden armor, and had wings of pure white stretching out behind him. He was bound to the wall by thick heavy chains.

Luther rushed forward and quickly released the angel.

"Thank you for releasing me, mortal. My name is Tyrael. I am an angel of light. I came here to ensure that Baal was not released from his imprisonment. I arrived here too late however, the Dark Wanderer, who is Diablo in disguise, had already arrived. I battled him, but he ultimately won, and released Baal. He then chained me here to suffer the same fate his brother was sentenced to. You must hurry, go to Kurast, maybe you can prevent the Wanderer from releasing Mephisto. Waste no time here, go!" The angel instructed.

"We will go at once!" Luther exclaimed, bowing briefly to Tyrael. He then turned to Frost, waiting for her to cast a town portal spell. Frost was on the same page, and quickly opened the portal. The trio piled through quickly, urgent to be on their way.

When they returned to town they quickly explained the situation to Jerhyn. The town leader knew that the woes of his town were past, so he sent for Meshif, a ship captain. Jerhyn ordered Meshif out of dock, and to Kurast. Within one hour of arriving in town, the heroes were about to load on the ship and be on their way east.

As the trio began up the gangplank into the ship, a voice rang out behind them. "Luther! Wait!" It was Fara, waving frantically. "I have something for you" She huffed as she caught up with the paladin.

"What is it?" Luther asked.

"Oh, cmon, we gotta get moving here!" Frost snorted, irritated still by Fara.

"It won't take long, I promise" Fara replied, then moved to loosen the straps on Luther's armor.

"What are you doing?" Luther said, surprised.

"Just remove your armor, please" Fara begged.

Luther trusted Fara completely, so he complied, removing his chest plate and armguards.

"I have a gift for you" Fara said, bringing a shining templar coat armor out from behind her.

Luther gasped. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes, it is the holy Guardian Angel templar coat armor. I have been the caretaker of it for some time." Fara held the armor out, "And now I want it to give it to you. Use it to defeat the Prime Evils and save our world."

"Thank you Fara, I am honored by your gift." Luther stood, arms outstretched, allowing Fara to clad him in the sacred armor of past paladin champions.

"Can we go now?" Frost said demandingly, furious at the delay.

Luther nodded, then turned and hugged Fara hard.

"Be safe Luther, and come back to see me" Fara said, tears beginning to streak down her face.

"I will, I promise"

"I'm gonna hold you to that, you know" Fara replied, releasing him.

Luther smiled, then ascended the gangplank, and boarded the ship. They were soon underway to Kurast, and the perils that would forever change all their lives.


	12. The Jungle Beckons

_Here is this week's installments. Our heroes have arrived in Kurast, and things are about to get interesting for them. Personalities will soon clash, decisions will have to be made, and life shattering consequences may well follow. _

_To the kind reviewer that mentioned necros, I considered one in here, but another character fit the story flow better. Besides, I need to leave a few character classes alone just in case I want to sequel this tale (hint hint)_

_Thanks everyone for the reviews, I hope my work lives up to the kind words._

XII

The trip gave Frost time to think, something she did not need to do. She was still enraptured by Keltar, but Luther's powerful display intrigued her. The only problem was that Luther could not call upon his power at will. She had seen him hurt, even nearly die, and he didn't become the slayer he did with Duriel. Even with him having such power, he could not call on it.

Then there was Fara, she had obviously fallen in love with the paladin, but he was too stupid to realize it. Frost could tell from the parting moment the pair shared that Luther was oblivious to her feelings, and seemingly did not have the same feelings for her, at least not on the same level. This amused Frost a great deal, Luther was apparently still head over heels for her.

Keltar was still in her grasp as well, though her interest in him was waning slightly. Keltar could not have defeated Duriel alone, like Luther did. She would still have her way with him, however, before casting him aside. He would have the honor of having her, if only briefly. After he would be resigned to his memories, and sentenced to wait for her, in case in the future she ever changed her mind and wanted him again.

The ship finally shuddered to a stop in the Kurast harbor, and the battle party disembarked. Keltar resumed his place by Frost's side, exactly where he was supposed to be. Though she had the comfort of being in control of Keltar, she was deeply troubled by her surroundings. She knew this moment would come for some time now, but that did not take anything from the impact of its arrival. She was close to the temple where she grew up, a place she had come to loathe.

Luther, on the other hand, was ecstatic to be back in his homeland. He too grew up here, studying and training in the temples of the Light. He had no idea Frost had spent her childhood so close to him though. The sorceresses knew of the town and paladin temples, but they had just thought the old women just had a nunnery out in the wilderness. They did not know it was a training ground for the most powerful magicians in the world.

Luther was looking forward to seeing some of his old comrades in arms, his friends, and his mentors. He knew the evil surely had spread to this land as well, as it seemed to follow the Dark Wanderer anywhere he went. He hoped that they could beat the Dark Lord to Mephisto's keep, but knew full well that the Wanderer was already in the jungle heading towards the temple.

He was prepared to accept that some of his comrades had fallen trying to stop the Wanderer, but he was not prepared for what he was to discover waiting under the dense jungle canopy.

But those surprises were not to happen at this moment. Instead he must attend to business in town. Luther made his way across the small bridge that served to connect the harbor to the main town. From the main town square, 4 bridges snaked out, not counting the one leading to the harbor. The northwest bridge led to a small hut that appeared to be an alchemist lab, the southwest one led to a sizable tavern, noises of revelry emitting loud enough to be heard on the main island.

The bridge to the southeast led to another large island, filled with homes and a smithy shop. Finally the northern center path led straight into the jungles, and the road that snaked to the temples of Light. Cain stood by the entranceway to this bridge and road beyond.

"I have some information for you." Cain said, moving towards Luther. "Mephisto has reached out with his influence and corrupted the priests that kept the compelling orb safe. They have placed wards on the orb itself, rather than sealing Mephisto in, they have sealed you out."

"I see, so we just have to get to the orb and destroy it, right?" Luther answered.

"No, it is not that easy. The wards that protect the orb are strong. The only way you will be able to break them is to create Khalim's Flail."

"Where will we discover this flail?"

"It is not found, instead created. Khalim was the only priest that was not corrupted by Mephisto's dark presence. The other priests killed him, and dismembered him. They then spread his remains all over the jungle. You must collect his brain, heart and eye. Then you must retrieve the flail, which is surely possessed by one of the corrupted priests. When these things are transmuted in the cube, you will gain the true flail, and only that may smash the orb and open the way to Mephisto's Durance of Hate." Cain explained.

"Very well, I see. I take it we aren't going to find these organs just lying about town are we?"

"No, I'm afraid not. The Eye is in the Spider Cavern, in the Spider Forest."

"That's the area right outside the gate here, right?" Luther asked.

"Correct, you remember the land well. The Heart is in the Flayer Dungeon in the Flayer Jungle."

"The section past the Spider Forest"

"Also correct. The last piece, the Heart, lies in the sewers under the old bazaar. Be careful, there are sure to be numerous guards around each piece." Cain warned.

Frost and Keltar sauntered up behind Luther. Frost looked visibly shaken, with her eyes darting to and fro, like she was searching for some hidden foe. Her whole body seemed to be tense, as though she was ready to spring on a moment's notice.

"Frost, are you okay?" Luther asked.

"Yes! Would you leave me alone already! My God!" Frost snapped.

A surprised look covered Luther's face. He had not even talked to the sorceress since they had dropped anchor, so he wasn't sure why she would say 'already'.

Keltar laughed deeply. "Don't worry about it Luther, she's been pissy every since we got here. I don't know what is bothering her, but it's really got her rattled, whatever it is."

Luther nodded. "Oh, well, okay then. We better get moving, we don't have much time if we're to try to stop the Dark Wanderer from freeing Mephisto."

"I'll catch up with you guys, I need to get a new pair of boots real quick." Frost said, turning towards the eastern bridge that led to the smith's shop.

"We won't go far" Luther said, starting out of the town gate with Keltar right behind.

Frost made her way to the smith, and purchased a nice pair of rawhide boots, a pair that looked like they would stand up to being used to cast her blazing trail spell. She turned and began back towards the main square. As her vision swept across the island block she was on, her blood turned to ice at the sight of a woman in black armor, standing a few paces from the bridge.

The woman had short cropped black hair, and creamy white skin. Her armor was as black as the night, and covered her from her boots all the way up to her neck. Somehow the armor seemed to be nearly invisible, but yet still substantial at the same time. The effect was quite unnerving. The woman was armed with dual katars, which made her hands seem like she had four metal claws jutting from each of them.

This woman was an assassin, a warrior trained in the arts of destroying mages, whether demon or human. While a sorceress like Frost would have a great deal of trouble taking on an experienced paladin, at least they weren't completely helpless. But an assassin was trained specifically to kill sorceresses, and was nearly immune to every trick one might have.

Assassins weren't inherently evil, nor did they hunt mages for sport. They were mainly trained to deal with magic casting monsters and demons, like fallen shamans and mummies. However, they also policed magic use by humans. If a human mage fell to corruption, then the assassins would eliminate them. All mages feared them, and few ever saw them. The assassins did prefer to move in the shadows. To see a woman clad in the black armor of an assassin usually meant death for the mage.

"I have done nothing wrong" Frost said tentatively approaching the bridge and therefore the assassin.

"Did I say you have, sorceress?" The woman answered.

"Then why are you here?" Frost said, truly surprised.

"Just like a sorceress, always thinking everything's about you. Well it's not, cream puff. I am Natalya, and my business here is none of your concern." The assassin snapped.

Frost was angered, but still wary. "Very well then, I will be on my way then."

"Before you go, sorceress, know this. I know of you. You are skirting a line you don't want to cross. Killing Amazons is a good way to get a visit from my Order, Frost. One more incident where you use your powers against innocent humans, and you shall taste steel." With that, Natalya threw a small ball on the ground. The object made a large pop and filled the air where the assassin stood with smoke.

Frost hacked and waved her hands, and discovered Natalya was gone. Frost was infuriated by the assassin's words, she knew they were a challenge. But Frost dared not respond, for she might have been arrogant, but she was not stupid. She didn't know how to respond, and she was very scared. These emotions served to do nothing but add to her anger. She snorted and made her way out of town to catch up with others.

The jungle battles for the trio were difficult, but not overwhelming. Dark, twisted monsters had come to inhabit the lush tropical marshes. There were fetishes, diminutive humanoid creatures who wielded razor sharp knives almost as big as they were. Following tradition for small demons and monsters, the fetishes also had shamans, who wore large tribal headdresses and were carried on the shoulders of their followers. The shamans had the dangerous ability to release a blazing inferno of fire from their mouths.

There were also mosquitoes, the size of small dogs flapping around the river that ran through the center of the jungle. These monstrosities had the ability not only to zap the life force of their victims, but to poison them as well.

Rounding out the horrific bestiary were twisted, deformed swamp frogs. These menaces stood nearly waist high, and spit a projectile of poison at their victims before charging in to bite with their sharp and jagged teeth.

There were other threats in the jungle as well. Snakes slithered about, surely some were poisonous. They were of no consequence to Luther, clad completely in his Guardian Angel armor, the only opening in the entire suit being for his face, but they were a credible problem for Frost and Keltar, whose attire had a great deal of exposed skin.

The putrid, vile river was a hazard as well. In it lurked a dark presence. While the creature, whatever it was, never surfaced, there was no mistaking it was there. One hard blow and one of the heroes could easily stumble into its depths.

Fire was a liability here as well, for a forest fire would severely dampen the quest. While some demons might perish, the party would have been blocked from the Temple which they were so desperately trying to reach. Every time Frost cast a fire spell, she would then have to douse it with a glacial spike before the burning got out of control. The magic kept the ground under from catching fire, but did not restrict the upper parts of the blaze, and with so many vines and limbs hanging down, something always started burning.

With all these perils, it would seem the odds were stacked quite against the party, but that was far from the case. With two strong melee fighters, and a sorceress well versed in ice spells, the monsters fell with little trouble.

Soon the trio found themselves standing outside a small cavern they knew to be a spider den. The Eye of Khalim was reputed to be in the depths of the cavern.

"This is going to get ugly." Keltar said, taking a deep breath.

"We must be prepared for anything." Luther added.

"Let's get this done" Frost chimed before entering the small hole.

The den was covered in sticky white spider webs, and a poisonous stench filled the air. Bones of various creatures littered the caverns, some animal, some even demon. Frost spied one that was surely human, maybe a small child. While the cavern was mostly open, there were some walls, making a maze with few turns.

Keltar and Luther entered the cavern, and were immediately repulsed by the sights and smell of the place. After a moment to adjust, they all began battle preparations, for a place as foul as this was surely infested with danger. Luther blessed his shield and brought into being an orange aura of fanaticism. Frost cast her energy shield and frozen armor. Keltar gave out a mighty cry, encasing him and the other two in a magical sheath that doubled their strength and health. Each warrior looked to the other two, and all nodded. They set forward to find the chest that contained the Eye.


	13. Scorched Hearts

_I present the next chapter, and hope it is pleasing. This time our heroes are facing great challenges as they work through the jungle. Someone may hurt, someone may come to understand themselves, and someone might just blow everything. Who you ask? Read on and find out!_

XIII

Around the last corner sat a golden chest, the Eye counted among its contents. Reaching it would not be as simple as sighting it, however, for a large pack of spiders stood between the heroes and their destination. The spiders were blood red, and stood nearly four feet high. Their front legs were as sharp as any spear, and their overgrown black mandibles waited to chew on any prey that was captured. Eight eyes rested on the head of each spider, all of them twinkling in anticipation upon catching sight of fresh meat.

The party took no time to consider battle plans, instead opting to rush in and press the attack. Luther shot forward in his trademark charge, crashing into the front spider and knocking it back. The spider slid back a few feet, coming to a stop between the inner wall, and an outcropping jutting from the outer side, essentially blocking the rest of the spiders from reaching the group. Luther began swinging madly, aided by his aura.

Frost teleported to the side of Luther, and several steps back, and began throwing frozen orbs into the spiders. She kept the assault up, only taking a moment here and there to catch her breath and recharge her mental energies before resuming casting.

Keltar could not see a way to enter the fray with Luther standing where he was, blocking the way like he was. Every time a spider fell, another would rush forward, allowing no opening for the heroes to advance. The heroes had the upper hand, but the spiders were forcing them to either relent and move away so they could swarm, or kill them one at a time. Keltar was useless, and he wouldn't stand for that.

Inspiration struck him out of the blue. Keltar rushed towards Luther, and as he reached him, the barbarian leapt. He touched his feet down on Luther's shoulders. Before Luther could react, Keltar pushed off back into the air. As he became airborne, he twisted his body as fast as he could. As he reached the apex of his jump, he was already spinning with considerable speed. As soon as Keltar touched down, he was in a full whirlwind.

Keltar cut a swath through the spiders in the back of the pack. He then turned and began his rapid double swings. The remaining pack split, half going to attack Keltar, the other half remaining focused on Luther, allowing a small gap to develop between the two groups.

Frost saw this opening and took advantage of it. She teleported to the small gap, in range of all the spiders but out of range of her comrades, and began casting electrical novas as fast as she could. The shocking lightning streaked out from her, burning the spiders with its crackling energy.

With a few more swings from Luther and Keltar, and a few more novas from Frost, the rest of the spiders fell. The golden chest opened easily, and Luther took the Eye, putting it in the pouch built into his plated belt.

"I guess that's that." Keltar said, taking time to clean off his weapons.

"Looks like it. Your tactic was impressive, Keltar, but next time you want to do something like that, please warn me." Luther said, rubbing his shoulders jokingly.

Keltar roared with laughter. "Yeah, I will. I just wanted to get into the fight, and that was the only way I could see to get it done."

"And you, Frost, brilliant. I'm still awestruck even after all this time by your power" Luther waved his hands to emphasize.

Frost felt a burning in her cheeks and her heart leapt with joy. No matter how kind Luther was, even to all he met, it still made her feel so happy that he believed so much in her. Others had offered compliments because they feared her power. Luther truly meant what he said, he truly believed he needed her.

"Of course I'm brilliant. Are you forgetting who you are talking to?" Frost snapped, trying hard to throw attention off of herself so Luther would not detect her true feelings.

Keltar offered Frost no words of support or respect. He stood there cleaning his weapons, appearing to be quite pleased with himself, and the job he had done. He did not think beyond himself, and that angered Frost, even though she was guilty of the same sin. Her interest in the barbarian had nearly completely faded. She was just about ready to relegate him to the shelf, where he would wait for her to decide that she wanted to play with him again.

"Well, we're done here. Let's get started on the Heart now." Luther said, returning to the entrance to the Spider Cavern. It was time to head deeper into the jungle, and find the Flayer Dungeon.

The trip to the Flayer Dungeon was fairly uneventful. The same old monsters, the same old grind. Flayers fell, frogs croaked, and the undead died. By the time the trio had reached the second floor of the musty dungeon, it was all becoming old hat to them. They had worked out successful battle plans, learned on the fly that took a minimum of time to produce a maximum result.

The third floor was no different except only in the fact it was a tightly packed maze, many halls leading to dead ends. After a few hours of wandering through dead end hallways and slaying the remaining flayers and zombies, the party finally discovered a large central room. In the center of this room sat another golden chest, surely holding the Heart. The warriors walked into the room slowly, wary of traps. A scratching, clicking sound echoed into the room from hallways off each side.

In each hallway stood a group of flayer shaman, engaged in whatever activity shaman do when they are not belching fire on someone. Luther stopped and jerked his fist into the air to notify the other two to do the same. Keltar understood and stopped silently. Frost however did not catch the meaning.

"Why are you holding your fist up?" She asked.

Luther turned around, flapping his mouth as though he was screaming but dared not let any sound out.

It was too late, the shaman had heard her, and let loose an ear piercing shriek simultaneously. They turned and poured into the room, at least 5 from each hallway.

Luther instantly activated his salvation aura, hoping it would be some help in protecting the party from the fiery flame attack of the demons. Keltar moved away from the group, taking up a position to the side by several feet, hoping to lure a manageable amount of demons to him. Frost teleported away from the other two, forming a triangle, hopefully catching the creatures in a cross attack.

The demons screamed into the room, some pouring towards Luther, some towards Keltar, and about 3 towards Frost. Flaming billowing infernos filled the air. The shamans that were not spewing flames were stabbing at the heroes with all their might. Chaos reigned over the battle.

Luther faced down a handful of the demonic creatures with little fear. His salvation aura was strong, and he took only minor damage from the infernos aimed in his direction. His Guardian Angel armor helped deflect the fire, as well as the knives of the shamans. He was well protected.

The Blessed Hand cut through the air, slamming into the shamans. When a shaman died, the flayer that was carrying the witch doctor would draw its large knife and attack. Basically each shaman had to be killed twice, once for the witch doctor, once for the minion carrying him. Though this slowed Luther's progress, there was no real threat in the battle, except for wasted time.

Keltar had complete control as well. His natural resistance to the elements was augmented by Luther's salvation aura, making the barbarian nearly immune to all magic. Keltar swung his axe hard, stunning a shaman. He then double swung his weapons a few times, destroying the stunned demon, and the creature beside him.

He continued this pattern, stun then destroy, until all the shaman had been killed and only the minions remained. The rest would fall quickly under his assault.

Frost wasn't going to have such an easy time, however. The shamans approached her quickly, one from the left, and two from the right. As soon as they were in range, Frost quickly created a firewall under her feet, and teleported back a few paces. The shamans charged right into the fire as she had hoped, but they didn't seem to be affected by the fire. Instead of falling dead, they stood in the flames defiantly.

The demons turned to her and two of them released a deadly inferno in her direction. Frost had moved outside the range of Luther's aura, and had no other protection from the elements. The fire danced towards her, unbearable heat blowing onto her face, luckily causing her to stumble back a few steps. The inferno flared up, inches from her skin.

The sorceress was blinded by the heat, her eyes feeling like they were cooking inside her skull. Instinct took over, and Frost fell back, attempting to duck but losing her balance altogether. She landed against the floor with a hard thud. The third shaman had worked around beside Frost, and was waiting for her. When she landed, the shaman thrust its knife at her with all its strength. The blade parted the armored shoulder pads she wore, and bit deeply into her skin. Searing pain shot through Frost, making instant friends with the pain that danced on her face from the infernos.

Frost felt the knife leave her shoulder, and knew another blow was quick to follow, and the next one might be fatal. She had to get away, this much she was sure of. Straining through horrible pain, she opened one eye enough to take in her immediate surroundings. She was in the small hall indention at the top of the room. Behind her were Luther and Keltar fighting, and the hall they had entered from. To each side of the room were the halls the demons were in. In front of her was a metal grate, and beyond a T intersection.

She had only one option, the other side of the grate to the hallway intersection. The hall was wide enough to keep her out of range of the infernos if she huddled against the far wall. Frost focused her mind as much as she could through the pain, and willed herself to teleport. The spell was successful, and she disappeared from the floor, and rematerialized in the hall, the metal grate separating her from danger.

When a teleport completed, the caster always ended up standing, such was the nature of the spell. Frost was too weak from her shoulder wound and burns to stand, and immediately crumpled to the ground with an anguished cry. The pain on her face forced her eyes to remain closed, darkness covering her sight, punctuated only by the sparkling bursts of pain. She prayed that one of the other two would notice her injuries and save her.

Luther was through all the shamans around him and was working on destroying the minions when he heard Frost cry out. He looked up to see the sorceress teleport outside the metal grate, then collapse into a heap. Panic shot through Luther, followed by blinding, burning rage. At that moment nothing mattered to Luther than saving this woman he now admitted he loved. That and destroying those who dared harm her.

Luther shot forward, smashing through the minions around him, and into the group of shamans that were standing at the grate, trying to find a way to reach the fallen sorceress. He stopped behind the shaman standing against the grate. His movement had been so swift the demon did not even know of his presence. He swung his shield back, and with all his might, drew it forward. The cold steel of the shield smashed directly into the shaman. The demon was pushed forward from the immense force.

Having nowhere else to go, the shaman was forced through the grate. There were no holes big enough for a flayer, so the shaman was instantly carved into pieces, each line of metal in the grate became knife like, slicing away at corrupted, evil flesh. Chunks of the demon fell to the ground on Frost's side, accompanied by splattering blood.

Luther quickly changed auras to his healing one. He looked to make sure it would extend to the wounded sorceress. Satisfied it would, he cast a few holy bolts at Frost, holy energy that would heal her on contact. Luther turned back to the remaining two shamans, ready to destroy them.

The two demons both expelled infernos in the paladin's direction. Luther bit back pain, no longer protected from the elements, but hell bent to protect Frost. Using his shield, he pushed forward into striking range of one of the shaman. The fire on his shield burnt his hand bad enough to make him bleed. Seeing the opportunity in this injury, Luther held his weapon under the dripping blood from his gauntlet. He said a quick prayer, imbuing his weapon with the strength of vengeance.

Vengeance served the paladin well, and soon the last two shamans lied dead on the cold stone floor. Luther turned to the grating and the wounded woman beyond. He had to get her back to town before she bled to death. He charged the grating with everything he had. Metallic screeches filled the air, as the grating fought hard to stop the advance of the armored warrior. The warrior won, however, and with a clang Luther was through. He quickly sent up a town portal, before scooping Frost up in his arms. The pair disappeared into the portal, leaving Keltar behind to deal with the few remaining minions.


	14. A Woman Scorned

_Here is this week's installment. In this chapter, we see what happens to Frost after her little run in with the Fetish Shamans. Frost then discovers how Keltar truly is, and is quite upset about it. Life is about to get very complicated for the sorceress. WARNING: this chapter contains some adult situations, hence the M rating this story has._

_Enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think!_

XIV

Pain seared through Frost, forcing her awake. Her eyes slowly opened, and were greeted by the sight of Luther standing above her. It was an odd sight however, for Luther was clad in the light leather padding he wore under his armor, and not in the armor itself. The only time Frost had seen Luther without armor was when he was wounded. She tried to sit up, but a throbbing pain in her shoulder stopped her advance.

"Take it easy now, lie still and rest." Luther said soothingly, placing his hand on her forehead and pushing her down gently.

"What…..what happened?" Frost mumbled.

"Think back, try to think. What's the last thing you remember?" Luther answered.

"I don't remember much, just the flames, the heat. Then I teleported back into the other hallway."

Panic rushed through the sorceress. The flames had licked at her face. Instantly she was very worried about scarring and any other cosmetic damage. She brought her hands up to her face, and touched gently. The act caused pain to scream through her in so many ways. Her left arm protested, a burning sensation spreading down her arm. Her face stung where she touched it. She seemed to ache all over.

"Don't worry about your face. I got to you in time to prevent any scarring. Your face is swollen, but in a week or two, there will be no signs of what happened." Luther reassured her.

Relief, mixed with the exhaustion from the little movement she had attempted, washed over Frost. She allowed herself to settle back and rest. As she settled in, she noticed something strange about how she moved. Her left shoulder was wrapped in bandages, covering the gaping wound the flayer's knife had left in her. Pain throbbed inside this injury, memory of the agony experienced when it was inflicted.

But there was something more that wasn't right, and it took Frost a moment to put her finger on it. Suddenly it dawned on her. She was naked! Mortified, she attempted to clutch at the covers feebly, as if there was some need to do so.

Luther laughed. "Be at ease Frost, it was not I that disrobed you, though I'd love to have the pleasure. A few of the women in town helped get you situated in bed here, and they made sure I didn't see anything"

Frost relaxed a bit, relieved she hadn't been seen in such a compromising state.

"You need to rest, here you go." Luther said, holding a handful of herbs under her nose.

Frost felt her mind go foggy almost instantly. Right as her eyes began to close, she saw Luther rise and leave the room. As sleep overtook her, it dawned on her just what the paladin had said. He had made a suggestive comment, an affirmation that he found her attractive. It was the first time he had said such a thing to her. For some reason, maybe from the pain, maybe from the sleeping herbs, this thought brought warmth to Frost's heart that she had never felt before.

Luther ambled out of the small wooden house that was serving as a makeshift hospital for Frost, and headed west across the small bridge to the main town square. He looked around for something to occupy his time while he waited for Frost to recover, but found nothing. With nothing to distract his mind, Luther found his thoughts returning again to Frost, and his feelings.

He was slightly embarrassed at what he had said to her about her lack of clothing and all, but he figured she would have no memory of it. He didn't mind even if she did remember, he truly had come to accept his feelings for her. He prayed that she felt the same for him, but could come to terms if she didn't. He would protect her either way.

Her relationship with Keltar had cooled considerably. Something had happened between them after arrival, though he knew not what. It seemed to him that Keltar wanted something from her that she was not willing to give. Luther had grown to know Frost well enough to know her interest had waned in the barbarian. Keltar seemed to be losing interest as well, though they did flirt back and forth once in a while.

Luther allowed his thoughts to wander with him as he shuffled around town, repairing his armor, chatting up locals, and doing anything else he could think of to pass the time between check ups on Frost.

Two weeks passed before Frost was well enough to move about again. Time truly was wasting, but Luther knew he could not take on the quest against Diablo alone. He needed Frost, and Keltar surely was an immense help as well. He did not strike out with just Keltar though, for deep down he did not trust the barbarian. It was nothing tangible, maybe it was because of the fact that he had caught Frost's eye, but something about the man bothered Luther. Luther waited for Frost, and if the world be damned by it, oh well.

Early in the morning, Frost slowly made her way from the small house that had been her recovery room into the light of the day. Luther noticed her emergence and quickly made his way to her.

"Are you feeling better, Frost?" He asked anxiously.

"Yeah, I'm doing better now." Frost answered. "Where's Keltar?"

"Oh, he's been spending most of his time over at the tavern with the Iron Wolves. I haven't seen much of him in a while now, to be honest."

Fury boiled within Frost. She had allowed herself to be Keltar's, and this is how he repays her for the honor? She could not let go, nor blow it off because of her pride. The only reason she was bothered by his lack of interest in her well being was because she couldn't stand the idea of someone who was enraptured with her ever losing that feeling. It was an affront to her ego.

Frost turned to storm off to the tavern, but Luther stopped her by holding her right elbow gently.

"Wait a moment please, before you go off to tear into him." Luther begged.

"Why? What do you want? Let go of me" Frost protested.

"I have a gift for you, a little something I picked up with you in mind."

Frost's eyes sparkled, and she made no effort to pull away from him. A gift would be a major stroke to her ego, something she desperately needed. She turned and displayed her best smile.

"I thought that would stop you" Luther chuckled. He then brought his hand from behind his back.

He was holding a shining silver dagger in his hand. The blade was nearly twelve inches long, and inlaid with beautiful symbols and markings. The hilt guard appeared to be made of pure gold, and shone brightly in the morning sun. The hand was inky black, the same tone as Frost's hair, and appeared to be made of some kind of rare and unusual metal. The pommel of the weapon was made of a single, dazzling sapphire. The entire piece was ornate enough to be ceremonial, but the extreme sharpness of the blade suggested otherwise.

Frost's breath caught in her throat. "Is that…." She trailed off.

"Yes it is, my dear. This is Wizardspike, the ultimate weapon for a mage. Cain himself verified the identification. I figured you were the ultimate sorceress, so you deserved the ultimate weapon, right?"

Luther replied, savoring the look on the young woman's face.

Frost gingerly took the weapon from Luther, feeling its magical energies filling her. She felt her abilities jump instantly with the dagger in her hand. "What did you have to give for this?" she asked.

Luther's face clouded a small bit. "Don't worry about that. Just know that it was worth it." Luther did not have the heart to tell her he had to sell the magical necklace his wife had given him along with his wedding ring to afford the dagger. Nor did he tell her that he did not know the dagger was Wizardspike, but he had taken a huge gamble on an unidentified knife and had just been lucky.

Frost was overwhelmed with emotion. The gift did serve to puff her ego, but no one had ever given her such a thing before. Not a gift that was so valuable, so meaningful. Luther did this because he wanted to, not because he wanted something from her. Such purity was alien to Frost, and it moved her deeply.

Tears streamed down her face, and she leapt forward into Luther, throwing her arms tightly around the paladin. She pressed herself against him, her cheek holding tightly to his.

"Its okay, its okay" Luther repeated to her, holding her tightly.

"No, thank you" Frost whispered between sobbing breaths.

Frost allowed one more moment to pass before she pulled slightly away from him. He did not try to keep her close to him, he did not try to impose his will on her. At that moment, Frost finally understood what she truly wanted from love, and what she wanted in a man. She wanted a man that would be there when she needed, one that would swoop in and protect her. She also wanted him to give her room, allow her to breathe. Finally he would have to understand her well enough to see through her bravado, to see the wounded little girl that lay underneath.

She instantly realized that the man she so desperately needed had been standing in front of her the entire time. He was unmoving in his support of her. He truly believed in her, and thought the world of her. He wasn't afraid of her, and it seemed that now he was no longer afraid of his own feelings either. Frost knew that these feelings were real, and they weren't a passing interest. Something inside her heart told her that these feelings for Luther were honest and true.

Frost decided it was time to act on these feelings, now that she was so sure of them. Instead of disengaging the embrace, she just drew back slightly, and gazed into Luther's eyes. She brought her hands up to his face, holding his cheeks gently. She would not allow him to get away this time. Frost leaned up and kissed Luther ever so gently.

This time, Luther did not pull away, or even attempt to. He kissed the young sorceress back, gently at first, and then with fiery passion. He pulled her tight against himself, and his lips seemed to speak to Frost of his yearning for her. She was surprised by his intensity, though that was not a bad thing in her eyes. She wasn't aware of just how much he had fallen for her before this moment.

Frost decided to show her strong feelings as well. She moved herself harder into him, and slightly lower than she was. She then slid up him, never once breaking the deep kiss they shared. As she reached the peak of her upwards slide, she opened her mouth. She was offering her entire body for him to explore. Luther's hands began to move in acceptance of the invitation, but instead, suddenly, pushed her hard away, ending the blissful kiss.

Once again, Frost was completely baffled. A puzzled look spread over her face.

"You are spoken for, my dear. I cannot dishonor you like this." Luther explained.

Frost had forgotten about Keltar, and didn't mind that she had done so. She was slightly annoyed by Luther's old fashioned beliefs, but also knew it spoke volumes to his character.

"That relationship must end before we can continue" Luther said gravely.

"I'll go take care of that right now!" Frost said, eager to cement the new relationship. It had taken Luther a very long time to come this far, and Frost wasn't going to start all over again.

Frost walked towards the tavern on the western island. She fully intended to tell Keltar that it was over, and in such a way to make him leave the party. The last thing she wanted was to be around him. She knew he would be crushed, but at this moment, she did not mind.

"Where's Keltar?" Frost demanded of the trio of Iron Wolves gathered around an old wooden table in the corner.

"First room at the top of the stairs, but I don't think you should go up there" the tallest Wolf answered.

Frost gave the man a hard look. She held out her hand, allowing it to become engulfed in magical flames.

"I don't think a half wit mercenary mage should dare tell a master sorceress what to do, do you?"

The man shifted uncomfortably. He had obviously decided trouble would be a bad idea. "Whatever you say, sorceress." He replied sarcastically.

Frost smiled smugly, and went up the stairs.

The door was closed tightly. Frost reached for the crude knob, but stopped when she heard voices floating into the hallway from beyond the door. One voice was unmistakably Keltar's, but there was another voice, a softer voice as well. Giggles and slight gasps reached Frost's ears. The sorceress stopped and listened closely.

"Oh, Keltar, that's very nice!" the female voice said playfully.

"I'm glad you like it. How about having a closer look?" Keltar answered.

The woman giggled, and then there was a moment of silence. Then the sound of Keltar breathing heavily pushed into the hall.

"Oh yeah, that's it. Do it more like that. Don't stop" Keltar breathed heavily.

Frost could not believe her ears. She flung the door open and was met with a sight that would change everything.


	15. Deadly Katars

_And now I present the final chapter in this week's installment. Frost has just seen something she can't believe and is about to act on it. Will she run away crying, or will she lay the smack down? I think we all know Frost well enough by now to know the answer to that one! What she does will end up changing Luther's life forever as well. Things are beginning to turn for both of them. _

_We are not far now from the ending. Only a few more weeks worth to go, 20 chapters in total. Next week I will try to post 3 chapters, and then the final 2 the week after thanksgiving. Hope to see yall back here for the big finish!_

XV

Keltar was lying on the bed, his head propped up against the inner wall, inches from the door. He was nude, and he was not alone. Also in the room was a young woman with golden, flowing hair. The woman's head rested between Keltar's thighs, twisting and bobbing quickly. The woman was topless, but Frost could spy the dress that covered the woman from the waist down.

The woman, realizing the door had opened, stopped what she was doing, and sat straight up. Keltar did not catch on as quickly and was about to begin to protest when he noticed the woman's shocked stare. When it hit him that Frost had entered, he instinctively grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around his midsection. The woman also tried to cover herself, grabbing for her blouse.

"Frost! Wh…what are you doing here?" Keltar stammered.

"What am I doing? What am I doing you say?" Frost screamed. "No, what the hell are you doing? That's what I want to know!"

Keltar stammered a few syllables, unable to get a complete word out.

"Did you forget we were together? Did that just slip your mind?" Frost demanded.

"Hey!" Keltar replied, growing some backbone. "I thought we were over! I told you I had to have more, and you refused to give it to me, remember?"

Frost's face reddened. "I gave you….I gave you the same thing that dirty bitch was giving to you!"

"Yeah, but you wouldn't give me the rest! She would." Keltar countered.

The woman began to open her mouth in response to the slanderous name Frost had called her, but was quickly silenced by Frost waving the Wizardspike.

"Don't even" Frost warned the woman.

"Leave her out of this!" Keltar bellowed. "In fact, if you don't want to jump in the fun here, get the hell out and leave us alone."

Frost's vision swam red at such a proposition. She reached back and kicked the door closed. She held the Wizardspike up, and formed a glacial spike in her other hand.

The natural sounds of the jungle were interrupted by a woman's scream. The scream ended as abruptly as it began, leaving a silent weight hanging in the air.

Luther tensed quickly at the terrible scream, worried that maybe the demons had found a way to invade the town proper. He blessed his shield and began moving towards the tavern, where the sound had erupted from. He made no more than a few steps before Frost teleported in front of him.

"Luther! You've got to help me!" Frost pleaded.

"What's going on? Who screamed?" Luther asked confusedly.

"Not here, no time. Meet me in by the Spider Cavern, come quickly!" With that Frost teleported away, out of sight.

A roar rose up from the tavern, and several Iron Wolves poured out of the building.

"Where is she?" the lead Wolf demanded of Luther.

"Who do you seek?" Luther asked, still a bit confused.

"You know who! The sorceress you travel with!"

"Why do you want her? Is there a problem?" Luther asked, still lost as to what was happening.

"She killed a local woman and a barbarian, with utmost brutality. Go speak with Asheara, she is handling the investigation. Step aside, we must find the murderess." The man explained, pushing Luther aside.

Shock gripped Luther tightly. He could not understand what was happening. He had just a few moments ago, been holding Frost tightly in his arms, releasing her only to allow her to end her relationship with the barbarian. Now, not fifteen minutes later, he finds out that she had been accused of murder.

Luther made his way into the tavern, and the chaos brewing there. Iron Wolves were running to and fro, all searching for any hint of Frost. Luther knew she was in the jungle, but decided to withhold this information until he had a better idea of the situation.

When Asheara saw Luther enter, she quickly issued a last order to the Wolf by her and began his way. She was a tall woman, powerful in her build, befitting the head of a mercenary organization.

"Hello paladin" she said, facing him.

"Hello. What has happened here?"

"Well, there was a double murder here, and it is pretty obvious it was a sorceress that did it." Asheara answered.

"What makes you say that?" Luther queried.

"The female was killed by a glacial spike. Along with witnesses seeing the sorceress go up the stairs moments before the crime was committed."

"May I view the scene?"

Asheara nodded and led Luther up the stairs.

A grisly sight met Luther as he entered the room. A large spear of ice had been run through the throat of a young blonde woman. Blood mingled with the melting ice dripped onto the hard wooden floor. The man was none other than Keltar, his throat had been cut from one side to the other. The pair had apparently been involved in some form of sexual congress, for Keltar was completely nude, and the woman was topless.

Luther's heart sank. It was obvious what had happened here. Frost had charged in, found Keltar in a compromising situation with the woman, and she had lost her cool. She had then attacked the pair, and slain them. His duty was now to bring her in for judgment. He did not know if he would be able to, however since death would surely be the sentence.

Mournfully he turned away from the bloody scene, and back to Asheara.

"Will you help us look for her?" The mercenary captain asked.

"I will fulfill my duty." Luther said sadly before heading down the stairs and out the tavern door.

The Iron Wolves did not dare to enter the jungle itself. If she was out there alone, they hoped that the demons would do their work for them. Luther knew where Frost was, and knew there were few demons left wandering this section of jungle. The Wolves did not know this, and he was happy to leave them with this misconception. They let Luther through, confident that he would turn Frost in, should he find her. Luther did not share their confidence, however.

While he made his way to where Frost was waiting for him, his thoughts raced with blinding speed. He had just come to terms with his feelings, and Frost seemed to be genuinely interested in him. He had already begun to envision the perfect life they would share together as soon as this quest was over. Now it appeared that dream was in danger. The entire situation was altogether too familiar to Luther, and he could not get over the irony of it. He had only had his first love a brief time, and now his relationship with his second love was appearing to be even briefer.

His heart weighed heavy in his chest, and with each passing moment, he felt less likely to fulfill his duty. He did not believe he could turn Frost over for death, no matter how horrible the crime. He loved her too much to watch her die. But he could not let things go either, for it was the duty of a paladin to uphold the principles of Light, no matter how painful it was. He truly did not know what he was going to do, his mind changing from one decision to another with blinding speed.

He finally arrived in the clearing by the spider den, and found it empty. Panic raced through him at the thought of someone else arriving here first and taking Frost into captivity.

"Luther?" a voice called out tentatively.

Relieved, Luther answered "Yes, it's me."

A moment passed before Frost appeared in the opening. She teleported to a spot right by Luther and began to sob wildly. "Oh God, what have I done?" She asked to no one in particular.

"Did you really kill Keltar and the woman?" Luther asked, trying to be gentle.

"I couldn't help myself. I don't know what happened. I went to tell him that it was over, and I found him with that woman, and I just….just lost it." Frost said, clinging to Luther tightly. "The next thing I remember was the blood. Blood everywhere, blood on my hands, blood running down the blade of Wizardspike. I knew I had to get out of there, so I teleported out to you, and then to here."

Luther sighed heavily, and pulled back from Frost. "You know I have to take you in, don't you?"

"No! No, you can't! They'll kill me if I go back! Wait, I've got it. We can run away, leave this place and never return. I love you, now take me away from here, and let's go live our lives out together in peace." Frost pleaded.

"I don't know, we can't just run away…..can we?" Luther answered.

"Yes! Yes we can, let's get going, just the two of us. We can make our way to the east, through the jungle. I know of a secret path, not far from here." Frost said, tugging on Luther's arm.

Luther resisted a small bit, still unsure of what he should do in this situation.

"I'm afraid I cannot let you go" called a voice from the edge of the clearing.

"Who's there?" Frost called, worry slipping into her voice.

"Show yourself!" Luther demanded.

Laughter floated in the air, as a woman seemed to materialize out of thin air.

It was Natalya, though now she wore a helmet shaped like a skull, and her katars were drawn and primed for action. The black armor apparently had the ability to completely vanish, hiding her presence, at least temporarily. The assassin seemed comfortable in her surroundings, but still was prepared for anything. She held her claws in a defensive manner.

"Step aside, paladin, and I shall not report that you nearly neglected your duty" Natalya ordered.

Luther turned aside from Frost, staring back at the jungle, and away from his love, and the assassin sent for her.

"Frost, I told you that you were skirting the line. Now you've gone and killed a barbarian, and even worse, an unarmed civilian. Keltar might have been able to defend himself, but the woman was helpless before you."

"Where are you going to take her?" Luther queried.

"Oh, you misunderstand. I am not going to take her anywhere. She is to die, and I will serve as executioner. Do you plan to resist?" Natalya asked coolly, turning to Frost.

"You damn well better believe it" Frost said, holding Wizardspike up.

Luther stood stunned for a moment, unsure how he should react to the situation. He wanted to help Frost, but he knew he could not go against justice, and everything he believed in. He had killed many for committing the same crimes, but yet he could not imagine doing the same to Frost. His hard line stance against such acts had instantly softened when it came to someone he cared about.

Frost engaged the assassin, determined to destroy the woman, or at least put of a hell of a good fight. Frost threw out her hands, releasing a lightning bolt from them. The assassin did not stop her advance, but instead lifted her hand, deflecting the bolt off her palms, and sending it crashing into the jungle. A wicked smile spread across Natalya's face.

"You cannot harm me, sorceress. You should give up now, and make this easy for both of us."

"Go to hell." Frost replied fiercely.

A fire sprang out of Frost's hand, and she formed it into a ball. She threw the burning projectile at Natalya as hard as she could. Right as the fireball reached the assassin, she made a single swipe with her katar, and the fireball split down the middle, each side flying away and back, safely missing Natalya.

Magic was useless against the assassin, so Frost adopted a more martial approach. She charged forward, holding the Wizardspike in an attack position. The two collided in the center of the clearing with a tremendous crash. Frost stabbed the dagger forward as hard as she could. Natalya deftly knocked the dagger away with her claw as though it was nothing. The assassin then drew her hand back, and struck Frost with a great deal of force with the back side of her claw.

Frost twisted from the blow, and fell backwards. Quickly scrambling to her feet, Frost began to panic. The assassin was well trained in both avoiding magic and attacking with martial might. The sorceress decided that retreating might be the better option.

The trail out of clearing and deeper into the jungle was a good stretch away, but Frost figured she could get there in a couple of teleports. Frost teleported away when Natalya approached, throwing herself as far away as possible. Natalya was prepared, and teleported herself.

As soon as Frost rematerialized, the assassin did so as well. Natalya appeared in the middle of a roundhouse kick, which she finished by landing her heel against Frost's chin. Frost stumbled back in confusion. She did not know any other type of warrior could teleport besides sorceresses, though the proof of the assassin's ability still stung on Frost's chin.

Once again Frost teleported, and once again Natalya followed, landing another hard kick. The impact sent Frost flying, spinning through the air before crashing down with a thud. She struggled to return to her feet as the assassin approached.

"It's over, now it's time to die." Natalya said with a growl.

Frost was on her hands and knees when the woman reached her. Natalya reached down and grabbed Frost's hair, holding her head back. Natalya brought her claw down to Frost's throat, pausing a moment to gloat in her moment of victory.

"Luther help me!" Frost screamed.

Luther was numb all over. He did not know what to do, how to respond. This moment could define him, could change his life completely. If he turned from Frost, he would have upheld the Light, but yet he would carry the pain of losing her for the rest of his life. If he came to the sorceress' aid, he would betray everything he had ever stood for, but his darling love would live.

Either way, he would pay for his decision. In an instant, the answer became clear. He knew what truly mattered, what would sustain him for the rest of his life. He could not have known how much his life would change because of what he was about to do.

A woman's scream pierced the jungle air.


	16. The Medallion of Grief

_Well, we are finally beginning to wind down to the end of my little tale. This chapter deals with the aftermath of the encounter with Natalya the assassin, and the battle against the High Council. Enjoy!_

XVI

Natalya's lifeless body lied splayed several feet behind Frost, launched there by the force of Luther's blows. Despair settled over Luther once he realized what he had done. He had defended a murderer, and even worse had taken a life that did not deserve death. Natalya had only been acting on the behalf of justice, like he had done so many times himself, and therefore could be considered innocent.

Luther held his head, his mind reeling.

"Thanks, I thought I was a goner for sure!" Frost said, walking up to Luther.

"How can you be so calm at a time like this?" Luther demanded.

"What? What is your problem? Hey, she attacked me, and you saved me. Simple as that."

"No, it's not and you know it! She was coming for you because you committed murder. And now I've killed her for it, now I'm an accessory to what you did" Luther said angrily. "Now there is a great deal of blood on my hands as well."

"Oh, cmon, get over yourself!" Frost scolded. "Let's get out of here before her friends arrive" Frost said, nodding towards the dead assassin, "and maybe you can grow a backbone on the way."

Luther bristled. Apparently even loved ones were not safe from Frost's sharp tongue. "Fine, let's go."

Though Luther had committed murder to protect Frost, word of his deed had not yet reached Kurast, so he quickly entered town and retrieved the Cube, and Khalim's body parts. Since he was a paladin, the townsfolk believed him to be beyond reproach. He quickly fed Cain a line about not having time to wait for Frost, and that he was going to continue in the quest against evil. Cain seemed suspicious, but did not hold him.

Retrieving the Brain was not all that difficult for the pair, it was located under the decaying city ruins, on the second floor of the sewer system. A few mummies with their standard compliment of skeletons, and a few shocking bats were the only foes that stood in the warriors' way. They quickly fell these foes, entered the second basement floor, and retrieved the body part the sought.

Soon after, they were back on the surface, working towards the temple in the center of the jungle ruins. The temple loomed large in the sky, cold white stone piercing upwards with all its might. Two large moats served as a barrier in front of the temple, with only a walkway in between. Luther knew this place well, it was where he had spent most of his childhood. It looked the same as he remembered it, but something was definitely wrong. An aura of evil and perversion hung in the air like a heavy black cloud.

"There are demons here, powerful ones." Luther whispered to Frost.

A smile spread across the sorceress' face. "Great, I was hoping to get a workout on this trip."

"Don't be careless now, Frost" Luther scolded.

Frost rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine, whatever. Let's go whip some ass" Frost said eagerly.

The pair prepared for battle. Luther blessed his shield, and activated his fanaticism aura. Frost renewed her energy shield and shiver armor. She also called a thunderstorm to the area, to strike down at their foes. Confident they were prepared, they moved quickly to the temple entrance.

As they approached the entranceway, six deformed, vile creatures charged out of the interior at the pair. They were once human, that much was sure from their appearance, but they had been turned into something else, something unholy. Large growths protruded from their bodies, like cancerous lumps. They had grown horns in their heads and shoulders. Tatters of red clothes hung from their bodies, concealing their putrid, twisted flesh. With a snort similar to a crazed boar, they sprang into battle.

Luther rushed forward to engage the demons, hoping to keep them pinned in the doorway. The demons struck back hard, pushing around him. They then poured out of the doorway and around the paladin. Luther quickly found himself surrounded. Heavy blows from deformed, scaly arms rained down on him. One of the monsters was enchanted with ice, and another with lightning. Thankfully Luther had his salvation aura, reducing the damage. He did not have an aura to reduce the demons' considerable might.

The paladin began his hail of blows, desperately trying to push back the creatures. The demons let loose wild animalistic screams with each strike, but did not relent in their attack. The few creatures that did not have direct contact with Luther began shooting bolts of lightning. The crimson colored charges bit through Luther's defenses and delivered a considerable shock. The bolt did not seem to damage the monsters, but instead rejuvenate their strength. Luther saw that he was fighting a losing battle, and could only continue his attack, and pray that Frost was able to aid him soon.

Frost was tied up as well, though not as direly as Luther. A few vampires had appeared from the shadows and advanced on her. The vampires were gangly, vile creatures. It appeared it had been some time since they had fed, their appearance more like a corpse than the beautiful humans they were purported to be. Tattered clothes hung off their grisly frames, and they carried gnarled wooden staffs as weapons. They attacked by raking their razor sharp claws over their victims, stealing their life force, but they also possessed a skill that truly surprised Frost. With a single motion, the vampires could call down a meteor same as she could.

Frost attacked the vampires, and they responded by calling down meteors on her. She quickly teleported to and fro, avoiding the fiery circles on the ground that was a giveaway of an incoming meteor. She threw frozen orbs at the beasts as soon as she landed from a teleport, only pausing enough to scope out her next target before teleporting once again.

The vampires connected a claw swipes on the sorceress, but all their meteors failed to strike her. They were intent to use the spell as their main offense, allowing her time to throw orbs at them while they were in the incantations. After they fell, Frost turned her attention to the main battle, and Luther.

The demons had surrounded him, and were attacking viciously. Luther did not have much time left if Frost did not intervene. She took a second to assess the situation, and as she did so, a clap of thunder rang out. She instinctively jumped and searched for the cause of the sound. This time the sound turned out to be natural, not produced by a spell. A jungle storm had brewed up, and torrents of rain bathed the battlefield. The rain did not hamper the demons any, and Luther was still in a dire predicament.

Frost needed something to eliminate the beasts around Luther as quickly as possible. A frozen orb would not have sufficient power to be any help. A meteor could not get close enough without endangering the paladin. Nothing else could even get close to the power needed.

Inspiration struck Frost suddenly. The answer was the rain. She could use it to her advantage. She formed a frozen orb in her hand, focusing all her power into it. She made the orb as cold and large as she possibly could. She then turned her eyes skyward, and threw the ball of ice as hard as she could. The orb flew upwards into the clouds. Her idea was justified as the clouds turned a dark black, and the rain was replaced by frozen shards of ice.

The icy blades of death rained down with tremendous force. Luther was well protected by his salvation aura, but the demons had no such protection. Frost teleported beyond the range of the blizzard she had created and began casting chain lightning spells.

Between the blizzard, chain lightning, and Luther's raging attacks, it was enough to fell the demons. As the final demon fell, it released a chilling nova, spreading out from it in a circular pattern. The attack did negligible damage to the heroes, but did serve to stop Luther dead in his tracks.

A pained look spread across Luther's face, and he quickly began to study the corpse of the demon. He tore at its body like a crazed beast.

"What's wrong?" Frost queried.

"These are my friends, my comrades" Luther answered, pain in his voice. "Geleb, Tooric, these demons were my closest friends when I was a squire here."

"How do you know that these things were once your friends?"

Luther pulled a golden medallion from one of the corpses. "Because of this" he said, tossing the medal to Frost.

Frost turned the medallion over, examining it. On the front side was a cross with beams of light filtering down from parting clouds, and on the reverse was an engraving of the bearer's name. Tooric Icefist was written prominently on the medal.

"That medal is granted to those paladins that are appointed to be guardians of the temple" Luther explained. "I was offered an appointment as well, but turned it down to travel. But my friends did not, and they stayed here." Luther said, slowly removing each medallion from each corpse.

Frost sighed sadly. "I'm sorry for your loss, Luther. But if you would have been here, you would have fallen too. Besides, you've released them from the pain they surely must have been suffering. I bet they are most gracious for your actions here."

Luther stared up hard, apparently caught off guard by Frost's uncharacteristic kindness. He nodded and slowly stood, tucking the medals into his belt. "You are right. I will honor them properly later. For now, I must destroy the evil bastard that did this to them."

Luther took Khalim's Flail from one of the fallen demons and restored it to its former glory with the Cube. He then smashed the Compelling Orb, and the pair entered the Durance of Hate.

The Durance was filled with all sorts of twisted creatures to impede the warriors' path. Putrid mummies roamed the halls, along with vampires. The worst of the lot was surely the Stygian Dolls. The dolls were small fetish skeletons reanimated by Mephisto's dark magics. They were armed the same as their living kin, with enormous knives. Where they truly became formidable was when they died. When the magic that held them together was destroyed, the creatures exploded, sending shards of bone in all directions, causing grievous wounds.

Because of the dolls, the going was quite slow for the pair. After each encounter with the dolls, Luther would have to take some time to let his healing aura rejuvenate them. The guards in Kurast surely knew by now of Natalya's death, and they had not forgotten Frost either, so returning to town for supplies was out of the question.

After quite a long time, the duo found the entrance to the lower level of the Durance. Mephisto himself surely waited therein.

"We're not going to just charge in. We need to assess the situation first. This is the real deal, one of the

Greater Evils so no crap, got it?" Luther instructed Frost.

"Yeah, whatever. A Prime Evil does not scare me in the least, but I'll go along with you, for your sake." Frost was glad that Luther had recommended caution, since it saved her the embarrassment of admitting her own fear.

Luther knew of Frost's feelings, no matter what her words were, so he did not look at her with scorn, but instead with a look that would hopefully bolster her courage, and hide his own fear at the same time. The pair silently descended the stairs to the horrors below.


	17. The Lord of Hatred

_In this chapter, Frost gains even more power, power she will desperately need very soon. The pair face off against Mephisto himself. Read and lemme know what you think!_

XVII

The chamber the heroes entered was sectioned off, an atrium with the stairs, and a single opening leading deeper into the room. Inside there was a large moat towards the back wall, separating the main room from the back section. The moat extended down to both the left and right, forming a center walkway that terminated a handful of feet away from a large empty archway. The space in between was filled by the moat itself. The space was too far to jump, but by no means too far for Frost to teleport. To each side of the center branch was branches that led off into a room like section to each side. From the looks of things, the duo would have to enter to move beyond the moat. The area behind the moat had a small walkway to the archway, then featured staggered steps similar to a throne room before terminating in a series of small pools fashioned against the wall.

The room appeared to be the residence of some unknown royalty, identical to countless thrones for countless kings. The difference was the twisted darkness that permeated the entire area, an oppression that just did not seem to lift. The walkway to the arch, and the arch itself seemed to be comprised of bones, most likely human. Blood seemed to fill the moat and the stench was nearly unbearable.

The warriors peered into the room from the atrium, trying to determine the location of their foe. They could not see Mephisto anywhere. Silently Luther motioned to Frost that they should move forward, and Frost nodded. They moved into the main chamber, hiding in the shadows.

They then saw that there was another pack of fallen council paladin demons standing at the very tip of the center branch. For some reason these demons were enraptured by something happening beyond, close to the far wall. Frost took advantage of their distraction, and motioned to Luther that she was going to move ahead a bit, and scout around.

She moved to the left, and reached out with her senses. She determined where the small side chamber started and quickly teleported there. When she materialized, she took in the sight of the pillars at the far end, towards the back wall, and the demon there watching something over to his right. Frost unsheathed Wizardspike slowly, trying to be silent. The sorceress stalked over to the demon, directly behind him. She grabbed the demon and quickly slit its throat.

The demon attempted to shout, but no sound issued except for the gurgling of blood from its wound. The demon fell back and Frost slowly lowered the dying creature to the floor quietly. Satisfied that the room was clear, she teleported back to where Luther was, and indicated for him to follow.

Luther did follow, carefully and quietly. The pair paused in the room, and attempted to find out what was preoccupying the hell spawns. They peeped around the corner and back to the center of the back of the room. An unholy sight met their eyes.

The Dark Wanderer was here, as well as Mephisto.

"Well done my brother!" Mephisto's voice echoed through the hall, with a deep menacing hiss. "I release your true form!"

With that, the Dark Wanderer began to change. Large black spikes erupted from his back, arcing upwards. The Wanderer's skin took on a blood red hue, and he began to grow beyond comprehension. Within a few seconds the man was no more and in his place stood a towering demon. Diablo himself, the Lord of Terror had broken through his mortal prison and back into the material plane.

"Go now, Diablo, and prepare Hell for our final day of glory! Soon I will join you, and then we will consume the world. None will stop us this time!" Mephisto roared, following the words with a spine chilling laugh.

Diablo bared his teeth in an evil smile before turning and lumbering towards the archway. Mephisto chanted something in the native tongue of devils, and the archway sprang to life. Grey liquid like water appeared like a door, and in the liquid was faces of humans screaming in the torture of damnation. Diablo vanished through the arch, barely fitting his behemoth frame into the portal.

The pair knew that this was the time. They had to destroy Mephisto, and then chase after Diablo. If they fell, the world would fall with them. No words were spoken, they both understood the gravity of the situation. Each warrior nodded, and then the duo sprang around the corner and attacked.

"You are too late!" Mephisto screamed in glee as the pair approached.

The warriors answered with action instead of words. Luther shot forward in a charge, and slammed into Mephisto. Frost teleported behind the Lord of Hatred and quickly cast a static field, reducing the monster's health.

Frost's spell apparently caught Mephisto's attention, for the devil swung one arm around, catching Frost square in the chest. The sorceress flew backwards from the force of the blow and landed against the wall with a dull thud. She was not injured, however, and quickly scrambled back to her feet.

Luther continued his vigorous attack, with his normal zeal, keeping Mephisto pinned down. Frost moved back into range, and threw a frozen orb at the monster. The orb did not do any significant damage to Mephisto, much to Frost's disappointment. It did serve to enrage him even more though.

Mephisto let loose an icy nova, similar to Frost's own electrical one. The chilly blast knocked Luther back, disengaging him from the demon. Mephisto turned to Frost, with hatred burning in the black cesspools of his eyes. He formed a ball in his hand, though it was not of ice, but instead it was made of pure unholy energy. He pulled back and launched it hard at Frost. The ball flew true and impacted on the sorceress' armor. She fell back and down from the power of the spell.

"Did you think your puny little parlor tricks could hurt a Dark Lord?" Mephisto hissed angrily. "Now you will die for your arrogance, you insolent bitch!"

The flames of Hell themselves came to life in Frost's eyes when she heard Mephisto's last word. Uncontrollable rage took over her mind. She teleported to her feet, and walked towards the demon. She stopped a few yards from Mephisto, staring hard.

Mephisto laughed. "Feed me your hatred! It will make your death all the much more sweet!"

Frost's anger boiled even hotter. Flames sprang from her hands, and quickly moved up her armor.

Luther scrambled to his feet, attempting to shake off the effects of the icy nova. He looked back to Frost, and saw her standing defiantly in front of Mephisto. Fear shot through him as he quickly tried to think of a plan to intervene before she was killed. As he began moving towards the Prime Evil, he noticed Frost was changing. Flames covered her hands, but remarkably they did not stop there. The fire was moving up her armor, and was engulfing her entire body. She did not appear to be in any pain, however. He did not know the ways of magic, but he did know that what he was seeing was not normal.

The flames quickly consumed the sorceress, making her appear to be a human torch. Frost screamed a horrible scream of hatred and anger, not of pain, and thrust her arms into the air. At that instant, a heat wave tore from her body and washed over the room. The heat was almost hot enough to cause burns. As soon as the wave was past, the fire around Frost solidified, obscuring the sorceress from view. Three large snake like apparitions appeared above where she stood, one from each arm, and one from her head. They appeared like burning snakes, with wicked fangs, and impressive hoods.

Each snake opened its mouth, baring its fangs, and began shooting huge fireballs at Mephisto. Each ball was several times larger than normal, and burned with much greater intensity. The fiery, snake like hydra continued to press the attack and launched wave after wave of projectiles at the Demon Lord.

Mephisto reeled from the blows. Luther saw his opening and took it. He quickly removed his gauntlet, and cut his palm with the hilt of his scepter. He let his blood drip upon the weapon, invoking the power of vengeance. Once the weapon had been enchanted, Luther jammed his hand back in his gauntlet and charged towards Mephisto.

Mephisto did not last long against his attackers. He was bombarded by burning bolts of fire on one side, and by Luther's blows of inhuman power on the other. With a final scream, Mephisto became no more. His body erupted into unholy flames, and what seemed to be spirits flew from his corpse. Finally the Demon Lord fell to the ground, dead. The demon was well on the way to whatever abyss vile creatures like him came from.

Frost apparently regained her composure, as the hydra spell dispelled, and she returned to normal.

"Are you okay?" Luther asked tentatively.

"Yeah, I'm fine. That was weird." Frost said, shaking her head.

"Weird? That the best you have? You turned into a three headed snake!"

"Such is the power of a sorceress." Frost answered nonchalantly.

Luther just stared hard, finally having time to be awestruck by what he had just seen.

"Let's get going! We have no time to waste." Frost said, moving towards the arch. "Diablo went through here, so I guess we should follow."

Luther collected his jaw, and followed the sorceress through the portal to the realm beyond.


	18. Passion and Pain

_Almost there! Only a few more chapters until the story's conclusion. I will post the final two chapters on Thanksgiving day, if the Lord's willing and the creeks don't rise. I hope you enjoy the ending, I certainly enjoyed writing the last chapter a great deal. I'm very excited to see what everyone thinks about it. I'll be waiting with bated breath for a reaction come the week after Thanksgiving. Anyways, on with the show, this chapter is about the pair's arrival in Hell, and contains some adult situations as they express their love to each other. R&R, and I'll see yall back next week!_

XVIII

The pair found themselves in a place beyond their imaginations. The sky above them was not recognizable by any means. Instead of a soft blue, it was a cold hard grey, with nothing to mark it at all. No clouds, no moon, nothing but endless, depressing grey. Sulfur hung in the air like an inescapable cloud. Evil and oppression was present in every form imaginable. They had truly arrived in Hell itself.

"Diablo!" Luther whispered, instantly raising his guard.

"No, the Dark Lord is not here."

Luther whirled around and discovered Cain, who was hobbling towards him, leaning heavily on his ever present wooden staff.

"What are you doing here?" Frost said, turning to face the old sage.

"Do not underestimate the power of a Horadrim. I might be old and frail, but my power has not diminished. And lucky for you as well! If I had not intervened and pulled you two down here, you would have landed in the middle of Diablo's Sanctuary. You would have walked right into a trap, surely Diablo knows of Mephisto's fall, and laid in wait for his brother's killers." Cain explained.

"Don't worry about that business back in Kurast. If you two succeed in destroying Diablo, I'm sure the entire world will forgive both of you." Cain stated.

"So they know" Luther sighed sadly.

"The death of mage slayer is quickly noticed. Try not to think of that now. The Iron Wolves sought both you with the intention of sending you to Hell, but they did not expect you to arrive in this manner. In a way, justice has been served" Cain said with a light chuckle. "Go rest, use any of the buildings here. There is no one else here, but us, and the two vendors down by the gate. When you are ready to proceed, I will tell you the way."

Luther and Frost moved into a large building to the west side of the fortress silently. The interior of the building was as bleak as the outside, with no color or decoration anywhere. The building was a single room, with no walls dividing up the space. A large wooden bed rested against the far wall, not far from a rough hewn table. In the center of the room was a large fire pit, and a couple of benches were arranged around the pit.

"There's only one bed. I guess I'll go find another place to sleep and let you have this place" Luther said, moving towards the door.

"No, we will both stay here."

Luther turned to Frost to protest, but was met with a sight that took his breath away. Frost had removed her blouse, and stood facing him nude from the waist up. Luther's eyes drank in every curve of her breasts and felt passion burning in his soul.

Frost moved to Luther and kissed him hard, her smooth skin pressing hard against his armor. As Frost explored his mouth with her kiss, she took his hand and removed his gauntlet. She led his calloused hand up to her chest, encouraging him to explore. He somehow found the courage to do so.

After lingering a few moments in the sweet embrace, Frost finally broke from him, leaving him feeling hollow without her. She took his hand and led him to the bed, and began removing his armor. She kissed every piece of skin that became exposed as he was disrobed. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, Luther's armor was completely off, along with his boots, and padded shirt. He stood before the topless sorceress in nothing more than his trousers.

"Let me show you how much I love you" Frost whispered, dropping her skirt while helping Luther remove his pants.

The time together seemed like an eternity and a split second at the same time to Luther. He wanted to stay here with her for the rest of his life. He held Frost tightly against him, feeling every inch of her beautiful body against him. He allowed himself to enjoy the blissful afterglow of their lovemaking, pushing aside all other thoughts of Demon Lords, murders, and anything else negative.

"Stay here and hold me some more." Frost pleaded.

"Of course, why would I go anywhere now?"

"I don't know, just don't go anywhere. This will be the only time we will ever have." Frost said, sadness creeping into her voice.

"Why would you say that? After Diablo falls, we will return to the west. I know a very nice place in the hills that you will just love. We will get married and spend the rest of our lives there together." Luther assured her.

"No, we won't. I will not survive the next battle." Frost said matter-of-factly.

"Of course you will! You're Frost, the most powerful human to walk the earth remember?"

"No, I'm not. That will soon be very clear."

Luther was completely baffled. He had never heard Frost admit to anything less than utter perfection in her power. She was scaring him a great deal.

"Let's not talk about that anymore." Frost pulled Luther tighter against her.

The pair abandoned words in exchange for more passionate kisses, and the melding of their souls into a single one once again. The pair fell asleep in each other's arms, both truly happy and completely in love.

The pair woke after a restful sleep. Time had finally come to track down their prey. After they each drank in one last look at the other in all their natural glory, the two geared up and found Cain.

Cain explained to them that they must pass through the Plains of Despair into the City of the Damned. There they would find a stairway to the River of Flame, and beyond that, Diablo's throne, the Chaos Sanctuary. The pair grabbed supplies and struck out towards their fate.

True, pure demons infested Hell, like one would expect. Balrogs roamed the plains, dull green behemoths with wings and fiery breath. There were also hordes of Flesh Spawners, vile creatures that appeared to be a twisted human. They walked on all fours, and had the ability to nearly instantaneously reproduce, releasing larvae of their kind that charge in and attack to protect the parent beast.

The worst of the lot had to be the Abyss Knights. They were skeletons, but not the weak kind reanimated by magic. These were native to Hell, the warrior kings of the Underworld. They wielded huge rapiers, and had the ability to shoot out magic missiles. A rare few even possessed the ability to curse the warriors, severely hampering their ability to fight.

The trip was difficult, but not impossible for the duo. Several times they had to return to the fortress for supplies. Once Luther's weapon even broke, leaving him unarmed. He was able fell the demons with just his fists, but was quite upset about breaking the Blessed Hand. Thankfully, the smith in town was able to salvage the weapon and return it to service.

The pair finally passed through the City of the Damned, and descended into the River of Flame. The River was filled with maggot worms like the ones in the Desert by Tal Rasha's tomb. These worms were stronger and more numerous than the previous ones. They clogged the entire pathway, forcing the warriors to engage and destroy every last worm. As they worked through, the adults kept laying eggs, producing endless streams of baby worms.

After what seemed to hours, or maybe it was days passed, the warriors finally destroyed all the worms. The path was clear, and the duo quickly made their way to the entrance of the Chaos Sanctuary.

"I love you" Frost sincerely said.

"I love you too" Luther answered.

"Please, protect me in here" Frost pleaded.

"I promise. I won't let you die. We're going to get through this."

Frost just nodded, and then walked into the Sanctuary.

The Sanctuary was packed with demons, and it took considerable time for the heroes to clear it. They also found five seals placed inside, two to the west, two to the east, and two to the north. With each seal they opened, they faced one of Diablo's lieutenants, complete with a horde of minions. One was an apparition, a ghostly demon that drained magical energy but was very ineffective against a physical warrior like Luther.

Another was protected by a Balrogs with unbelievable speed. Again Frost was relegated to the back of the battle, unable to handle the heat from the group's fire breath. Luther destroyed the pack with little trouble, with the assistance of his salvation aura.

The last boss was an Abyss Mage. They were the same as the Knights, only purely focused on magic, making them formidable foes. They possessed a curse very similar to Luther's thorns aura, causing all damage done to them to be reflected at the attacker, rendering Luther useless. He could do nothing but run around, diverting their attention to Frost. The sorceress destroyed them with several frozen orbs and a few firewalls.

When the final seal opened, the entire Sanctuary began to shake violently, and Diablo's voice floated in the air.

"You will find nothing but death here!"

The duo braced themselves, and began towards the center of the Sanctuary for the final showdown with Evil.


	19. A Cold Day In Hell

_We're almost there! Only a few more paragraphs to go. In this chapter, the fate of our duo is beginning to be revealed. Everything is wrapped up in the next chapter, so be sure to click over to it and give it a gander!_

_Happy Thanksgiving!_

XIX

The Demon Lord stood in the center of the pentagram, awaiting the heroes with obvious glee.

"This is it! Either we defeat him, or we die trying!" Luther shouted.

"Let's kick his ever-living red ass!" Frost answered.

They charged at Diablo, and the battle began.

Frost teleported to the side of Diablo, and cast a static field a few times, weakening the great devil. She then teleported away, behind Luther, and began to throw orbs as hard and fast as she could.

Luther charged in, and began swinging his scepter as hard as he could. Diablo's flesh did not give way, only bounced the weapon back at him. Luther focused himself even more and put everything he had into his attacks. The blows softened the demon's skin a little, and he could see he was wounding the Dark Lord, but only ever so slightly. He knew that he would need to keep Diablo's attention so that Frost could continue casting her magic.

Diablo let out a hellish grunt, and raked his claws across Luther's chest hard, denting the cold metal. When the blow failed to interrupt Luther's attack, the devil grew more enraged. He lifted his arms up high, and the very flames of Hell shot up through the floor, forming a flowing wave of fire that streaked from the demon's feet outwards. The flames licked at Luther's greaves, burning him severely.

If Luther had not quickly invoked his salvation aura, the flames would have surely slain him. Even with the aura, he was badly injured, and fell to his knees. Diablo saw his weakness and swiped once again with his massive claw.

The blow connected and sent the paladin flying to the side. Luther barely caught the edge of the pentagram, narrowly avoiding falling into the holes, and the fiery death that waited below. Luther struggled to pull himself up before the Dark Lord could complete the task he had started.

Now that Luther was out of the way, Diablo focused his attention on the sorceress. He charged at the spellcaster, and tackled her. Frost attempted to teleport, but was too late. The blow knocked her back, stunning her for a brief moment. The devil smashed Frost hard, sending her flying to the ground. Frost regained her balance, and quickly teleported back to her feet.

Frost knew she could not survive in close quarters with the demon. She teleported several yards away from him, and called a firewall under the demon. The fire burned Diablo, but did little damage. The demon responded by unleashing a blood red stream of pure lightning from his hands. The stream flew towards Frost and impacted her squarely in the chest.

The spell destroyed Frost's energy shield and her shiver armor both, leaving her with no defenses. Her mind was reeling from the attacks, and her focus was wavering. She began to teleport away from the attack, but did so much slower than she usually moved.

Diablo noticed her slow response and brought forth another stream of fire from his feet, only angled a bit to the left of Frost. The sorceress completed her teleport, directly into the spot that Diablo had predicted. The fire from the spell was waiting for her and immediately began burning her flesh. A new streak of pain flew through Frost, jumbling her thoughts even more. She would quickly die if she did not escape the flames.

Once again the sorceress teleported, and once again Diablo accurately predicted where she would land. He raised his arms, and a cage made of pure bone rose around Frost, imprisoning her. Dazed and confused, the sorceress tried to teleport out, only to find she could not. She was unable to think, so she did nothing but flail against her cage feebly.

Diablo knew she was helpless, and wasn't going to let the opportunity pass him by. The Demon Lord charged the cage as fast as he could. He smashed through the cage, and wrapped his huge claw around Frost's face. He then lifted her off the ground and turned back to Luther.

Luther had just finally pulled himself up from the pentagram hole. He scrambled to his feet, planning on charging the devil, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Diablo holding Frost. The demon smiled a smile of pure evil before letting out a deafening laugh.

"Let her go, you son of a bitch!" Luther growled.

"Fine!" Diablo rumbled.

The Demon Lord squeezed his claw, and Frost's head exploded in a shower of blood and grey matter. Her lifeless body fell, impaling on the shards of the bone cage that still protruded from the floor.

"Noooooooooo!" Luther screamed at the demon, falling to his knees in shock.

"Don't despair, you will soon join her!" Diablo taunted.

Luther did not answer, but instead began to shake uncontrollably. Diablo smiled, thinking that the paladin had given up and would take his death without a struggle. He could not imagine how wrong he was.

Diablo began marching towards the shuddering paladin, but stopped short when he realized the man was not crying as he had thought, but instead was laughing.

"What are you laughing at?" The Demon Lord asked confused.

The paladin did not answer, but instead began laughing even louder. Diablo stood at guard, not sure what to make of the situation.

Luther finally looked up, and Diablo saw that he no longer had human eyes. Instead his eyes were purely white, like the eyes of an angel. Luther shot to his feet, and when he did so, a pair of enormous wings of pure light unfurled from his back. Luther arched his back and turned his head skyward sharply. When he did so, his armor seemed to explode and was replaced by coverings of pure light. Only the deep tan of his skin remained to prove that he was not of celestial origins.

Luther looked down at his scepter and threw it aside as though it was worthless. Without warning, a long, wicked blade of shifting bright energy appeared in his hand. The blade itself was on fire, burning without consuming the sword. Satisfied with his transformation, Luther turned his attention to Diablo, and flew towards him slowly, but with malicious intent.

"No! This cannot be! It is impossible!" Diablo protested.

Luther did not bother to explain what he was, or how he changed, but instead continued towards the Dark Lord.

Luther swooped down and swung his sword hard. Diablo threw up his claws, grabbing the blade. The fire burned the demon badly, and the paladin's strength was too much. The blade broke through the demon's defenses and slashed at Diablo's red flesh.

Diablo howled in pain, and reactively slashed at Luther. The paladin gently flapped his wings, and floated just out of range of the blow. Anger consumed the Demon Lord, and he fired a stream of red lightning at Luther.

Luther did not even attempt to dodge the bolt, but instead just raised his hand. The stream ran into his hand, and gathered there. Diablo cut off the stream, waiting to see how badly the attack hurt the flying, glowing man. Instead he saw that the entire bolt of lightning had gathered into a ball against Luther's palm. The paladin did not seem hurt in the least. Luther then pulled back his hand and thrust it hard forward towards the demon.

The red bolt flew away from Luther's palm right back at Diablo. The spell impacted the demon hard, knocking him down and back, something that should not have been possible. Apparently not only could the paladin catch the spell, he could enchant it to where it damaged the caster.

Diablo was badly injured by the bolt, and did not return to his feet. Instead he glared up at the flying man, the hatred of all Hell burning in his eyes.

"Never again will you ever cause any suffering!" Luther said with a voice that sounded like a thousand rushing rivers.

With those words Luther flew towards Diablo, his holy blade thrust forward. He sank the sword deep into the Dark Lord's flesh, piercing his black heart. The Demon Lord died, countless spirits of damned souls screaming out from his flesh, freed from his torment. All of Hell quaked with the passing of the Demon King.

Diablo's corpse shriveled up, returning to the form of the Dark Wanderer, and collapsed to the floor. The Lord of Terror would terrorize no more. It was truly over.


	20. The Final Victory and Defeat

_Well, here it is, the big finish to my little tale. I sure hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. A year and a hundred revisions later, and it's finally done. Let the rejoicing commence! Or at least a few reviews hehe._

_Thank you everyone for reading, I really do appreciate it. When I push one of my books through and get published, everyone that reviews one of my pieces here gets a free copy! _

_There will be a sequel to this story, the outline for it is nearly done. It will cover an Amazon, necromancer, and possibly a druid cleaning up the mess left behind at the end of this story. Before I write that tale however, I'm writing a Soul Calibur fic. That story deals with Talim and Mina taking on Nightmare and Tira. Please swing by there and check it out. It's titled 'Infernal Winds'. After it's complete, the sequel will shortly appear. _

_Happy Thanksgiving, I'll see ya in the Soul Calibur section next week!_

XX

Luther's pain and hate subsided, and he once again reverted to human form. As soon as the dizziness of the transformation passed, Luther quickly ran to Frost's lifeless body. He held her tightly in his arms, her blood still flowing from her decapitation, staining his armor crimson red. He wept, then wailed at his loss. He had loved her deeply, and now once again, he had lost the woman he loved. He did not know what he was going to do. He did not know if he could go on.

His lament was interrupted by a new, different rumbling from behind him. He quickly turned, concerned that a new threat had arisen. He realized that he had no weapon, the holy blade had dissipated the same time his wings had. He would fight unarmed if he had to.

As his eyes met the source of the noise, he realized that fighting would not be necessary. A celestial host floated down from the sky. The angel was clad in shining golden armor, and had the same pure white wings that Luther had a few moments ago. The angel also had a flaming blade. He wore a hood that obscured his features, but his glowing white eyes could still been seen.

The angel landed softly, and moved towards Luther. "Well met again paladin. I am Tyrael. You freed me back in Tal Rasha's tomb." Tyrael explained.

"Yes, I remember, I am honored to be in your presence again." Luther greeted the angel.

"Do not be so hasty in your praise, not until you hear what I have to say." The angel warned.

A confused look spread across Luther's face.

"It is true that you have dispatched Diablo, the greatest task any mortal has ever done. But when you did so, you crossed a line. Though it should be impossible for any mortal to do, you somehow tapped into the power of the very heavens themselves. You called down a level of Holy power so high that you turned into an angel yourself.

"Though you used this power to perform the greatest of good, you nearly brought disaster to all of existence. Mortals are not pure, they have inside them a taint of evil, no matter who they are. When you changed and pulled the heavens into yourself, a part of the evil corruption of your soul leaked out, back into the heavens.

"It has taken the most powerful of the archangel mages to prevent the evil from destroying the heavens completely. We cannot know what will become of this corruption, if it can be stopped, or if it is nothing to worry about. Because of this, we cannot allow such power to exist, for if you were to tap into the heavens again, it could destroy everything. For this, you are to be punished." Tyrael explained.

Luther was taken aback. "What do you mean, my Lord? I did not use that power willingly, nor do I even know how I could use it. Surely I don't deserve punishment for something I cannot control!"

"It does not matter. We must protect the greater world. Your power cannot go unchecked, especially uncontrolled." Tyrael said sternly.

"So I am to die then?" Luther questioned.

"No, you saved the world from Diablo, that has earned your life. There is another punishment you must face."

"I am prepared for your judgment." Luther stood with his head bowed.

"Luther, on behalf of all the heavens, I revoke your status as a paladin. Henceforth you will no longer have the power of Light. You forevermore will be a fallen paladin." Tyrael said with great authority.

With the angel's words, the Light passed from Luther. He felt his aura dissipate and die, and his strength faded. Despair gripped at Luther's heart, and he suddenly felt like he had lost most of himself. Weakness took him, and the former paladin fell to his knees as tears streaked down his face.

"I am truly sorry Luther. This had to be done. Now go back to the fortress, and Cain will take you away from this place. Live out your remaining days with the knowledge that you are the Light's greatest champion and will be remembered for all time." Tyrael said, trying to comfort Luther.

Luther did not answer, but instead continued sobbing. Tyrael patted his shoulder briefly, trying to offer courage and sympathy, before ascending back into the realm of angels.

Luther was left alone in the Sanctuary, with overwhelming despair devouring his spirit. He turned and crawled back to Frost's body, lying beside her and resting his head against her chest. He did not know what to do, what would become of him.

As he lay by his slain lover, he allowed his mind to wander back over his life. He remembered his first wife, his precious little boy. He remembered finding their lifeless bodies, and felt the pain anew. Then his thoughts drifted over this journey with Frost. He remembered the bad times, the bickering, and he remembered the good times, the greatest no more than a day past. Now Frost was gone too.

When his wife had died, he was able to go on because he was a paladin, he had something to live for. Now he did not even have that. He had lost everything he had cared about. His wife and son had died, his new love Frost had died, and the Light had turned its back on him as well.

There was nothing for him to live for. He could not be a warrior of Light. He could not dare risk love again. Everything and everyone he cared about was gone. Only one option came to his mind. Only one way to relieve the pain he suffered. He would go and join those he loved beyond the veil of death. He would be free of the mortal world and all its pain.

Luther reached over and removed Wizardspike from Frost's dead hand. He examined the blade closely, remembering how happy she was when he had given the dagger to her. Remembering her happiness and being reminded that he would never see her again solidified his resolve. He sat up and quickly brought the blade to his neck.

He plunged the dagger in his throat and tore it across as hard as he could. Pain seared through his mind as he collapsed back to the floor beside his beloved. He could hear the rush of blood spurting out of his neck. He welcomed death and the release it would bring. As the life rushed from him, he heard a soul chilling sound.

A high, cackling laugh erupted into the air, and a large, looming shadow danced on the edge of Luther's diminishing vision.

_Baal…….oh……..no………._ With this thought, the mighty paladin died.

3


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